It's Need To Know
by pdljmpr6
Summary: ...and who the hell decided that HE didn't? - Gibbs wants answers, and the team dutifully delivers, but no one is quite ready for what all the digging turns up. Least of all, Gibbs himself.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Welcome to my first NCIS multi-chap. This chap is kind of short, but it was the natural stopping point so...Enjoy. -pj

"Relax, Lance Coolie. This is the Naval Yard, not the Pentagon," Corporal Mathers couldn't help but be amused by his new companion's nervousness. The man hadn't slouched his shoulders since assuming duty that morning and was still standing at attention outside the door to the gate building.

"It's Lance Corporal, sir," the other Marine corrected brusquely, and then added, "and I am aware this is the Navy Yard, sir."

Mathers dropped his feet from the desk inside the miniscule guard shack and came to stand beside the other man. Folding his arms across his chest, he squinted at the sky, the early morning sun was hovering close to the horizon.

"Well, _Lance Corporal_, do you think you could relax a little bit? You're making me tense," Mathers asked of the other Marine, who reminded him quite a bit of the Royal Guards outside Windsor Castle, "I don't _do_ tense before nine."

"I don't 'relax', sir."

Mathers sighed and rolled his neck.

"The sad thing is, I believe you," he muttered, and then went back inside the small building, propping his feet back up on the desk and leaning far back in his chair.

"Give a holler if you see anything interesting, Marine. I'm gonna rest my eyes a bit."

The Lance Corporal's jaw tightened with irritation, but he responded with a simple, "yes sir" and approached the first car of the day.

"Good Morning, sir. Photo ID and pop the trunk please."

A few minutes later, far too few minutes in Corporal Mathers' opinion, he heard his name being called repeatedly accompanied by a rough shake on his shoulder.

"What? What is it?" He asked, jumping up from his chair and glaring at the other man.

"Does that count as interesting?"

Mathers followed the Lance Corporal's finger through the window of the small building and saw a plain black sedan heading straight for them doing a lot more than 15mph.

His eyes widened, and he picked up the handheld speaker on the table.

"Driver of the black sedan, slow down. The posted limit is 15 and you need to stop for checkup. I repeat, slow down." his voice boomed from the overhead megaphone. He waited a beat and then cursed and flicked a switch on the two-way radio, "Perimeter Guard One to base we have a code Orange. Black Sedan on approach hot, not heeding warnings to slow. Moving to intercept." He threw down the radio and reached for his weapon.

"Cover the entrance Lance Corporal!" He shouted and both he and his companion took up positions on either side of the gate building, their guns raised.

"Stop now!" He shouted one last time. The car still showed now sign of cooperating.

"Open fire, tire shots only."

---

"I would tell you Tony, but then I would have to kill you," Ziva said flatly, glaring at her slower-than-usual computer.

"Ah, so it _was_ a guy on the phone," Tony surmised, his chin in hand as he stared across the space between their desks at his partner.

McGee ignored the entire exchange, optimizing his data input : output ratio was currently taking up his full attention.

"Anything I should know?" Tony pressed.

"If there was I'm sure you would, DiNozzo," Gibbs breezed past them, coffee in hand and made his way to his desk.

"I would 'what', Boss?"

Gibbs looked at him slowly, clearly bemused as to why he was having to clarify himself, "_know_."

Tony looked at Ziva, who was smiling smugly, and back at Gibbs.

"Right."

Just then, Jenny Shepard descended the stairs and entered the Squad Room.

"Gibbs, we've got a Code Orange at Perimeter One."

Gibbs's head snapped up, his eyes sharpening with recognition while the other three members of his team gave each other confused glances.

"What happened?"

"That's what I need you to figure out. I'd like you to send Tony and McGee down to the scene while you and Ziva interrogate the suspect. Room One."

"You would, would you?" Gibbs challenged, his glare unmistakably indicating he didn't like being told what to do with his team.

"Yes, and I'd like Ziva to conduct the interrogation," she raised an eyebrow and dipped her chin, silently indicating that it was a request, but she could make it an order if he needed her to.

"Why?"

"Because the suspect is a young woman-"

Gibbs looked away and smiled as if to say that was the stupidest reason he'd ever heard.

"Jethro," she waited until he looked at her, "humor me."

"Do you know something I don't?"

Jenny gave one of her secretive, challenging smiles that used to get him all tied up in knots and shook her head, "lots of things Jethro, but nothing pertaining to the case."

Gibbs locked gazes with the Director for several moments and none of the others dared move until their team leader pursed his lips and gave a slight nod.

He looked around and saw his team was still at their desks.

"What are waiting for?" he raised his eyebrows, "_go_."

_TBC_


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** I received one review last chap but several alerts, so i know at least a couple people out there are reading so 'Thanks!' and I hope you like this chap as well, it's much longer than the first and, once again, it was a natural stopping point. : ) -pj

From behind the one-way glass Gibbs sipped his coffee, the picture of nonchalance. Beside him Ziva was looking at the thin file containing all the information they currently had on what had happened at the gate, including the witness statements that Tony had just emailed to her phone.

"No driver's license or registration in the vehicle. The Marine at the gate did not recognize her."

Gibbs swallowed another sip of coffee and continued staring ahead at the girl in Interrogation.

The young woman sat stock straight in the uncomfortable interrogation room chairs. Her dark brown hair was loose and slightly curled as it fell around her face, onto her shoulders and several inches down her back. Sharp blue eyes stared at the table in front of her, hands clasped and feet crossed at the ankles she looked more like a school girl waiting in the principals office than anything. She wore no makeup but her cheeks seemed to glow a healthy red all on their own and her thin green tee shirt and jeans were fitting of the sunny June day outside.

"What do you think she was doing here?" Ziva asked after a few minutes of silence.

Gibbs turned to look at her slowly.

"I'll just…go find out,"Ziva answered her own query and left the observation room, appearing at the door of Interrogation Room One seconds later.

The girl looked up when she heard the door open, her eyes following the movements of the female agent closely as she moved into the room and sat down opposite her at the table.

"I am Officer David, NCIS," Ziva began, the file lay unopened in front of her as she scrolled through information on her PDA. The girl did not respond and her face remained blank as the minutes ticked by. Ziva expected her to start to fidget like most suspects and demand to know 'why she was there or tell her they had no right to hold her or, considering what had happened at the gate, ask for a lawyer. But the brown haired girl across from her did none of these things. In fact, she seemed perfectly content to wait. For what? Neither woman knew.

"Your name?" Ziva prompted when the girl still had not spoken and five minutes had gone by.

"Kay," she said, her tone flat.

Ziva still didn't look up, "you have a last name, Kay?"

The girl didn't move, hardly blinked. When she didn't respond Ziva finally lifted her eyes to look at her.

"Last name?" She asked again.

She met Ziva's eyes squarely and Ziva grew somewhat suspicious at the lack of emotion in the blue orbs pointed at her. They held neither the fear of someone innocent nor the brazenness of someone guilty. Just nothing.

"No," Kay said with a microscopic shake of her head, "no last name."

Ziva took a calming breath, "we will discover it sooner or later but it would be in your best interests to make it sooner-"

"I am not being difficult, Officer David," she cut in but without the sharpness her words seemed to convey and Ziva began to wonder if she was really as detatched as she seemed. "I merely have none to give you."

Ziva stared at her for a moment and then returned to her PDA.

"Why were you coming to the Naval Yard?"

"To see you."

Ziva looked up.

"Not you personally, Officer," Kay clarified coolly, "NCIS."

"Why?"

"I need help."

"With what?"

Kay shifted minutely in her chair her eyes dropping from Ziva's and then bouncing back, "you wouldn't believe me."

"Then why come at all?" Ziva's voice raised slightly with frustration and Kay moved her eyes to look at the mirror behind her.

"I don't know."

Ziva took another deep breath. Did all potential murderers have to speak in riddles?

"Fine. Why were you driving so fast then? Why did you not heed the warnings to slow down?"

"I tried," Kay said, her voice still almost robotic in it's levelness, "I couldn't stop."

"Are you saying someone sabotaged you?"

"I'm saying I couldn't stop."

Ziva sighed and collected her things, standing to leave.

"Are you going to help me?"

Ziva stopped, her hand hovering over the doorknob. She turned around.

"If it were up to me? No."

"It's not up to you?"

Ziva pursed her lips, "no."

Kay seemed to hesitate and then, "I hurt someone."

Ziva tilted her head, surprised at the sudden emotion in the girl's eyes as she waited with, two parts apprehension, one part impatience, for the answer.

"Minor injuries mostly."

"Mostly?"

Ziva's jaw tensed, "a Marine needed emergency surgery. Lance Corporal Steven Robinson. You hit him with your car."

The Mossad agent deliverd the news in her usual blunt manner and Kay's eyes immediately jerked away.

"Tell him 'I'm sorry'."

Ziva's eyes hardened, and she did not respond but returned her hand to the doorknob and let herself out. Seconds later she rejoined Gibbs in the observation room.

"I was not able to get much from her."

"Yeah. Saw that," Gibbs nodded, "we'll check in with DiNozzo and McGee, get some more evidence and then I'll go talk to her." He turned to look at Ziva, "in the meantime, find out who she is."

Ziva nodded and Gibbs left the room. She frowned at the sight of the woman on the other side of the glass and stepped forward. Kay's head was bowed low, her chin almost touching her chest and two dark green spots appeared on her shirt. There was no other evidence, but Ziva knew.

Their seemingly apathetic suspect was crying.

---

"It does not make any sense, why would she come to us and then refuse to tell us _why _she came to us?" Ziva paced back and forth in front of her desk, gesturing wildly to punctuate her irritation.

"She must have wanted us to investigate her," McGee guessed. He pushed aside one witness report and flipped the page of his notebook to the next.

"Yeah, well, she's not giving us much to go on," Tony sighed, "Can't you make this thing go any faster?" He asked half-heartedly. His computer, presently running the license plate for the car Kay had been driving against any BOLOs or stolen car reports, was not going as fast as he would have liked.

"Maybe I could if you would let me take all the downloaded internet games off it," McGee said, not looking up from the report in front of him, which was nearly impossible to read in Tony's hasty scrawl.

Ziva shook her head, having missed the entire exchange. "I do not like mysteries," she huffed, falling into her desk chair.

Tony raised an eyebrow and looked up at his partner.

"This from the Mossad assassin who keeps what she had for breakfast on a 'need to know' basis?"

She turned to the printer behind her and picked up a paper with a glossy finish, a freeze-frame of their suspect in Interrogation and then turned a glare on him.

"I said I do not like them, not that I didn't see any need for them," she corrected saucily, standing and moving toward Tony's desk.

Tony started to retort and then caught sight of the photo. His eyebrows shot up and he snatched the picture from her hands.

"Wow, she's hot. I'd date her. Who is she?"

"The girl who ran down a Marine this morning with her car."

Tony's lips formed an 'oh' and he allowed Ziva to snatch it back.

"And for the record," she said, turning to leave the unit, "I had oatmeal."

---

"Whaddya got for me, Abs?" Gibbs exited the elevator on the basement floor of the evidence locker and made his way over to the woman in black pigtails and a red jumpsuit.

"Hey Gibbs," she accepted the Caf-pow! gratefully and took a long sip as they rounded the front of the black sedan parked in the middle of the garage, all the doors standing open.

"I have a problem with the prints," she admitted, giving him an apologetic look.

"What? Couldn't get any?" Gibbs guessed.

"More like couldn't _stop _getting them. I picked up over two dozen whole and partial prints from more than ten different people on the door handle and steering wheel. I mean, it was a _mess_," she led him to a table with overhead lights and held up the fingerprint lifter, "partials, whole prints all overlapped and smudged. Whoever this car belongs to, they were definitely not exclusive about driving rights."

She moved back to the vehicle and, dutifully, Gibbs followed, "I also got several samples of hair. Blond, brunette, redhead, you name it, I lifted them all to run for DNA," she suddenly whirled around and Gibbs had to stop short to avoid running into her, "But you wanna know the _really _weird part?"

"There's a _really_ weird part?" Gibbs asked with an almost amused half-smile.

"Yeah," she nodded emphatically, an eager glint in her eye, "Okay, America is a drive-through nation," she sat down in the driver's seat and gestured around the car, "We live in our cars. Take out trash, CDs, pens, paper, maps, changes of clothes, pet hair, toys, bottles, clothing fibers, pop cans, air fresheners…"

"Abby, I get the point," Gibbs said, his eyebrows raised in a way that said 'get to the point and double-time it'.

"Right," she nodded, "Now take a look at _this _car. Nada. Not even a fossilized french fry under the driver's seat. Completely sterile."

Gibbs tilted his head to one side, processing this new information.

Abby stood up and, Caf-pow! in hand, made her way to the computers on the other side of the car.

"So, going on a hunch, I ran the license plate against rental places in the area," a few clicks of her keyboard and a cheerful beep accompanied the self-satisfied grin she turned on Gibbs, "I got a match. This car belongs to Regis Rentals in Bethesda. It was last rented to Molly Rowe, here from Michigan three days ago."

Gibbs nodded, "got a-"

"Cell phone number and hotel information?" She cut him off and placed a post-it note with scribbled writing in his hand.

Gibbs smiled and dropped a quick kiss on her cheek, "that's good work Abs."

"Thank you," Abby turned to go back to her computer as Gibbs started toward the elevator.

"Oh and Abby?"

"Yeah?"

"The suspect claims she tried to stop and couldn't. Check the brakes for me would ya?"

"I'm on it like the paparazzi on Lindsey Lohan." Abby saluted and grinned at Gibbs' puzzled look as the elevator doors closed between them.

---

Gibbs left the elevator at his usual brisk pace and started through the bullpen toward his desk.

"Where's Ziva?"

McGee looked up from his computer. "She went to see if she could get Abby to run facial recognition on Kay," Gibbs gave him a look, "er, I mean, the suspect."

"Boss, I found out who the car belongs to," Tony got up from his chair and moved to stand in front of Gibbs' desk, "it's a rental car out of-"

"Bethesda."

"Uh, yeah," Tony looked up from his paper to give Gibbs a confused look, "it belongs to a company called-"

"Regis Rentals," Gibbs supplied again, not looking up from his computer.

"Right again," this time Tony frowned and glanced briefly over at McGee who shrugged, "it was last rented to a-"

"Molly Rowe, here from Michigan," Gibbs turned and grabbed his gun and badge from his drawer and then stood, rounding his desk. Tony watched slightly dumbfounded as Gibbs left the bullpen and headed toward the elevator. Gibbs hit the call button and entered the small lift, "you waiting for an engraved invitation, DiNozzo?"

Tony suddenly jumped into action and moved to gather his gear, knowing that _how _Gibbs always seemed to know everything he knew wasn't nearly as important as not keeping Gibbs waiting on that elevator.

"On your six, Boss."

_TBC_


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Okay, I feel that now I should make it known, I'm a little bit of a review junkie. Okay, a lot bit. I'm not going to say I won't post if I don't get reviews, cuz that's whiny and stupid. But I am saying, for future reference, reviews make me happy. _Very _happy. Don't you want to make me happy?? Even one-word reviews are enough to give me a Caf-Pow! worthy jolt... : ) -pj

---

"Stupid stupid machine!"

McGee looked over his computer at Ziva and raised his eyebrows.

"Problem, Ziva?" he asked, cautiously.

"Nothing an acetylene torch and a hammer couldn't fix," she muttered.

"Always works for me."

They both looked up as Gibbs entered the Squad Room, fresh cup of coffee in hand and DiNozzo on his heels. Outside the sky was ablaze with bright orange that matched the walls.

"How'd the interview go?" McGee asked, his eyes bouncing between Gibbs and Tony as they both replaced their gear.

"Dead end," Tony answered, sounding none too happy about being dragged out on a 30 minute drive with Gibbs at the wheel for no reason, "she reported the car stolen early this morning."

"Gibbs, the Director asked to see you when you got back," Ziva said.

Gibbs paused in putting away his SIG and looked, first at Ziva, and then up at the door to the director's office. Without a word, he picked up his coffee and made his way out of the Unit toward the stairs.

---

"Director Sheppard, Agent Gibbs is here."

The Director pressed her finger to the COM button, "send him in Cyn-"

Before she'd even had a chance to finish the door to her office was flung open and Gibbs walked in.

Sheppard raised an eyebrow, "I realize common courtesy is lost on you, Jethro, but do you think you could humor me every once in a while by just playing along?"

Gibbs gave a slight eye roll, "I was under the impression I was invited."

Jenny pursed her lips in an attempt to suppress a smile that seemed to always threaten her lips when he made one of those smart ass comments, and she turned to a paper on her desk.

"I received this via secure fax an hour ago," she held out a paper with the presidential seal in the corner.

"What is it?"

"An SI-BOLO. Apparently, the CIA lost something and they want it back," she said, her tone indicating the general distaste she held for their sister agency, ugly step-sister as it was.

"Sensitive Information BOLO?" Gibbs stated with interest. He set down his coffee and picked up the Director's discarded reading glasses and took the paper, "mid-twenties female. Brown hair, blue eyes. Last seen in a green t-shirt and jeans," he read aloud.

"Sound familiar?"

Gibbs jaw tightened and he tossed the paper and the glasses back down on the desk.

"Nope."

Sheppard sighed, "Jethro, the CIA is serious about this. Unless you have a really good reason to keep her, we'll have to turn her over."

"She came to _us_, Jen," Gibbs protested, pacing away from the desk and then came back, "for all we know she's _running _from the CIA. You better than anybody know what their willing to do for the sake of the mission."

"Yes, I do. And she could also be one of their agents gone AWOL with top secret information."

"Aw c'mon, she's just a kid."

"You and I both know age has nothing to do with it."

Gibbs pursed his lips, their eyes locked in a silent battle of wills. Before either could come out victorious Gibbs cell began to ring. Not taking his eyes off the director's, he pulled his phone from his pocket.

"Yeah, Gibbs."

He listened for a moment and the Director cocked an eyebrow at his reaction to what was being said, a slight tightening of his features that anyone who didn't know him so well would have missed completely.

"Yeah, I understand. Thanks," he sighed and hung up the phone, "she's not going anywhere."

"Why not?" Jen watched in half disbelief as he turned for the door.

"Because Lance Corporal Robinson just died from post-op complications."

---

"A Marine is dead people, somebody better have something for me," Gibbs reentered the Squad Room, his team simultaneously snapping to attention as he passed.

"Dead?" Ziva asked.

"The Lance Corporal. Died from complications after his surgery." Gibbs didn't look up but felt the others throw each other somber glances. Their hit-and-not-run had just turned into murder.

"Update?" He asked impatiently a moment later.

Tony stood up, "I was able to get a hold of a video of the girl stealing the car."

McGee cleared his throat not-so-subtly and glared at Tony.

"Probie helped," Tony admitted with a sigh. Recognizing this was all the credit he would get, McGee got up and moved to stand in front of the plasma in the middle of the room with Tony and Ziva.

"How?" Gibbs asked, standing alongside his team.

"Well, he was really a great moral support for me, translated all the technical gibberish that he seems to think is so-" Tony flinched at the head slap that cut him off.

"The car was parked outside a convenience store on Liberty Ave while Ms. Rowe ran into the bank," McGee began, looking vindicated. A click of the remote showed a slightly grainy picture of the black sedan they had in lockup, "Now, a few minutes after she goes inside, we see this."

He let the tape roll and a choppy video made up of stills taken every six seconds showed a slight female figure cautiously approaching the car, jimmying the lock and getting inside to drive away. McGee rewound to almost the beginning and froze.

"I sent this down to Abby to have her clean it up some," he zoomed in on the face and the grainy still sharpened, revealing their suspect, "and there she is in all her GTA glory."

"Poor kid," Tony muttered, the comment sounding like he hadn't really meant to say it out loud.

They all turned to look at him, McGee and Ziva with confusion, Gibbs with a glare.

"She killed a Marine, DiNozzo," he reminded the agent sharply.

"Yes but I don't think that was her intention, Boss." Tony defended.

"Oh, you don't?"

"No."

"And why not?" Gibbs snapped, "you've never met a Marine killer before?"

Inconspicuously, McGee and Ziva both stepped back, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

"Look at her, Gibbs," Tony pointed back to the screen. They both turned. The picture Abby had enhanced was a telling one. In the photo Kay's shoulders were hunched, as if trying to disappear into her shirt. She was biting her lip and her eyes were shifted to one side, as if watching for dangers lurking somewhere off camera.

"That doesn't look like a killer to me, Boss. It looks like a scared girl who's been pushed into a corner," Tony continued, "She told Ziva she tried to stop the car and couldn't. She was coming to see us, probably looking for help."

Gibbs' eyes narrowed but he backed off, both literally and figuratively, "find some evidence to go with that theory, DiNozzo, and we'll see."

He turned away as Tony went back to his desk, "McGee, I have reason to believe the girl is affiliated with the CIA, you and Ziva, see what you can find out."

He turned and left the bullpen, on his way down to Abby's lab.

"I'll make a few calls," Ziva said to no one in-particular.

McGee sighed and looked toward the windows, where the sky had left off the warm colors of sunset and was growing dark, "I'll order take-out. I get the feeling we'll be here a while."

---

"Hey Abby, anything on the brakes?" Gibbs announced his presence in the form of a question, flicking off the music on her stereo as he passed since it was, in his opinion, too loud.

"Nope, the brakes were in perfect working order," Abby turned to look up from her computer, "so ask me why I'm enthused, oh Wise One."

Gibbs sighed, his first instinct was to dismiss her request and demand answers, but he decided he was too tired to deal with Abby's complaints of 'not having anyone to talk to all day' and needing 'a little build up before the finale'.

"Why are you enthused, Abby?" He asked, the 'I'm sure I'll regret asking this but…' remaining unvoiced.

Abby's face brightened, clearly delighted he was playing along, "I'm enthused, Gibbs, because," she turned back to her computer, "she was hacked."

Gibbs frowned, coming closer to lean one hand on her desk and the other on the back of her chair, "hacked?"

"Yeah, when I came up empty looking at all the physical parts of the brakes, I decided to go deeper," Abby's hands began to fly over the keyboard and the screen was filled with unintelligible code, "the sedan's onboard computer system showed signs of tampering. Look, here," she pointed to three lines of letters and symbols that were highlighted on the screen, "it was covered up well, but I was able to detect a part of the command code that wasn't deleted. For an eighteen second window at seven thirty-one this morning, the girl was _not _in control of that vehicle. She couldn't turn on her blinker let alone make the brakes operate."

Gibbs leaned forward to get a better look, though Abby found it highly doubtful that he actually recognized any of what he was seeing.

"Twenty years ago, this wouldn't even have been possible," she continued, "everything was completely mechanical. But now everything from windshield wipers to transmission fluid is monitored and recorded via onboard computer."

Gibbs furrowed his brow thoughtfully, his eyes never leaving the screen, "how'd somebody get into her system?"

"That's the brilliant part," Abby leaned forward again, her black fingernails tapping furiously against the keyboard, "OnStar. The company has a constant lock on all of it's vehicals so they can monitor for airbag deployment. Our Hacker 'Trojan horse'd the signal. Got in. Got out. Clean and professional. It's all very _Enemy of the State_ meets _Eagle Eye_," at Gibbs' bemused look, she sighed, "Okay, when this is all over, we're having a mandatory movie night."

"Abby, who's capable of doing this?" He asked, ignoring her supposed obligatory cinematic plans.

"I can only think of two organizations with the technology and intelligence available to pull it off." Abby grimaced when Gibbs looked at her, waiting for her to finish, and wished McGee were here to deliver the bad news.

"Who, Abby?"

She sighed, "the FBI or the CIA."

_TBC_


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N:** Yay!! My slightly pathetic plea for reviews worked!! I love you all! **Gina **- thank you so much, I hope you continue to enjoy, **alli **- glad you're enjoying the little moments, I try to mirror as close to the show as possible, i think that's the challenge and fun of fanfiction. And no worries, neither the muse nor my OCD tendencies will allow me to stop posting, but reviews are just so much fun I had to say something!!, **mel **- thanks so much! I fully intend to, **finlaure **- thanks for another review and I shall continue reeling in to the best of my ability. One of my biggest pet peeves are fics that are OOC or have flat, uninteresting dialogue, so the fact that you think this does well in both respects (since you're watching it in your little mind theatre) is a great ego boos. Enjoy this next chap everyone! -pj

---

"What's up Charlie?" Tony entered the observation room, "why'd you call me?"

The man at the video monitors turned to face him and then pointed at the large, one-way window.

Kay stood in front of it, staring directly at the mirror, arms folded, unmoving.

"She asked to see an agent."

Tony made a face and left, entering the Interrogation room a few moments later.

Kay turned to face him.

"Who're you?" She asked immediatly.

"Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. You wanted to speak to an agent?" He said, all business.

She nodded, "the Marine I hit. Any news? Last I heard he was still in surgery."

Tony hesitated, "he didn't make it."

He watched the girl visibly deflate, genuine sadness flooding her eyes.

"Did he have family?" she asked, quietly, her eyes dropping to the floor.

Tony sighed, he didn't want to tell her any more but knew if it were him, he'd want to know. "No wife or kids, just his parents."

Kay leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes so Tony took that opportunity to change the subject.

"All our attempts to run your prints and face and have come up empty."

She turned to look at him but didn't speak. It wasn't a question after all.

"Well, it would probably be easier to find you if we had more than a first name to go by…"

"Yeah and if I had that I wouldn't need you," Kay snapped, pushing away from the wall as she began to pace. Her blue eyes flashed with anger though the words lacked the venom they implied. Being cooped up for close to eighteen hours seemed to have worn through the control she had on her emotions but Tony still had a hard time believing she could find it in herself to harm a fly, let alone kill a Marine.

"Why don't you know your real name? Who are you working for?" he asked, though he was pretty sure he already knew the answer to the second one.

Kay shook her head, pacing at the far edge of the room, "can't tell you."

"Where were you before you stole the car? Who are you running from?" Tony asked, grasping for a question she _could_ answer.

Again, she shook her head, looking more distressed by the moment, "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" he demanded, some irritation finally showing in his voice.

Kay stopped pacing and closed her eyes, pressing the heal of her hand to her forehead, "it's need to know."

The room was drenched in silence for several minutes, the seconds on the clock ticking by with deafening clarity.

"You're part of an undercover op? Something having to do with the CIA?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Something like that," she muttered and turned to face the wall for several seconds. Then turning back toward him, "I can only tell you what I know, and it isn't much."

Tony raised his eyebrows, waiting.

"Something happened to me a long time ago. I don't know what it was, but who I really am is a part of it," she looked up to see Tony's confused gaze looking back at her and she sighed, the rest of the explanation coming out in a rush.

"My memory starts when I'm about eight or nine years old. Before that…all I get is flashes, brief clips of things and people I don't know. I had a family at one point, I'm sure of it. I had a past…there was a house…water, a lake maybe…and," she closed her eyes as if searching her memory for something just outside her reach, "a marine. That's why I came to you. Tha and because I've worked with all the agencies there are from Interpole to the FBI and NCIS is the best. You don't necessarily have the best equipment but your contacts are above the radar and your dealings are below it."

Tony straightened at the compliment and it drew a small smile from Kay. She pushed some brown hair behind her ear and shrugged, the desperate attempt to make him understand had drawn a few mutinous tears from her eyes which she steadfastly ignored.

"That's all I know."

He watched her for several moments and she met his scruitny without flinching.

"I'll see what I can do," he said finally and turned to leave.

"Wait," Kay called.

She wiped the corners of her eyes with her thumb and gave him a brave smile. When she stepped forward Tony caught sight of her black and white Converse shoes as she rounded the interrogation table toward him.

"What?"

She locked with his eyes and reached up slowly to his ear, where he still carried a thin yellow whiteboard maker from when he'd been brainstorming earlier with McGee in the Squad Room.

"Can I borrow this?"

He glanced between the marker and her face several times, "yeah, I guess," he said, uncertainly, somewhat distracted by her closeness and the pleasant smell of peaches that seemed to surround her.

"Thanks."

Tony's frown was still one of confusion as he locked the door behind himself after he left, a muttered 'you're welcome' on his lips.

---

"Ah, Jethro, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" Ducky asked, the Scottish lilt of his voice catching Gibbs attention immediatly. He moved from where he'd been staring blankly at the xrays on the wall over to Ducky's desk.

"You get the body of my Lance Corporal from the hospital morgue yet Duck?"

"Not yet. I was under the impression you already had the killer so I did not put a rush on it."

"Well yeah, Ducky," Gibbs said beginning to pace, "but we don't have a motive. And the evidence is pointing more and more to our suspect being a victim, not a murderer."

"Yes," Ducky nodded, standing and moving back over to the x-ray viewer, sticking up a few films labeled 'Robinson' in the corner, "Abby told me about the 'hacked' systems," he paused and then turned to face his friend, "do you believe the young Lance Corporal was the target."

Gibbs shook his head, "no. I think he was collateral damage. The girl we have in Interrogation was the target."

Ducky turned back to the x-rays, "but from what Abby told me, and what I suspect you aren't telling anyone, you already have a pretty good idea of who is behind all this cloak and dagger nonsense. So if you don't mind my asking, why are you continuing to pursue it?"

Gibbs pursed his lips, moving toward the doors at the other end of Autopsy, "Somebody's hiding something, Duck. And now a Marine is dead. I'm not closing this case until I have answers. All of them."

---

"Hey Abby," Tony entered the lab and found the young Goth fretting over her computer to some atrocious Plastic Death tune.

"Tony!" Abby jumped up, and moved to stop him from coming any further inside, "I don't have anything for you. No fingerprint or facial recognition matches, no weird substances that Major Mass Spec has identified, no-"

"I know all that Abby," Tony cut her off. He would have been amused at her typical caffine induced over-reactive rant, but was still a little taken aback from his interaction with their 'suspect', "Do you still have that de-aging program you used on Ari?"

Abby frowned at the obscure reference, "Yeah, I'd need McGee to come set it up though."

"Do it."

She raised her eyebrows, "why? What's going on?"

Tony smiled, "I got a gut feeling."

"Taking lessons from our fearless leader, are ya?"

"It's contagious," he said with a shrug, "take fifteen years off our suspect and run her face against missing children for that year."

"Consider it done."

By the time he left she was already dialing McGee.

_TBC_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Omg, thank you so much everybody for the reviews!! You seriously have no idea how happy they've made me. **diana teo** - _thank you so much (I love lists of things I'm doing right, lol) and it seems we have similar tastes in writing likes. Hope this continues to live up to standards_. Okay, this chap was supposed to be much shorter, but I couldn't justify dragging it out without things feeling forced. But don't worry, it's nowhere near over ; ) -pj

---

McGee entered the interrogation room quietly, a bag of take-out in hand. It was dinnertime and he'd decided their suspect turned victim(?) was probably hungry.

He frowned when he didn't immediately see the girl in question. The room was not really that large so it only took him a moment to finally locate her. She was curled up on the cot that had been brought in and pushed into the corner under the plasma wearing a slight frown on her face. He set the bag on the table and was about to leave her to her nap, when a flash of yellow in the corner of his eye made him turn.

He stopped short, staring wide-eyed at the one-way mirror.

It was covered, top to bottom, in mathematics equations. And not just your basic two plus two equals four, not even 'a' squared plus 'b' squared equals 'c' squared. He was looking at complex, incredibly advanced algorithms that he only just barely recognized. McGees eyebrows were nearly touching his hairline as he stepped forward, his eyes bouncing from one letter or symbol to the next, his mind working over the math equations greedily.

His concentration was interrupted though, by a soft moan to his right. He looked over and saw Kay moving restlessly, her frown deeper than before.

His hand fell cautiously to his weapon and he approached her, careful to keep his right rip, where his SIG rested, out of her reach.

"Kay?" He called. The girl turned her head away from him, stilll asleep.

"Hey wake up," he tried again, this time reaching out to touch her shoulder. When she still did not wake he tried once more, louder.

"Kay!"

Suddenly Kay sat bolt upright, her hair flying into her face as she scurried away from his looming, unfamiliar figure. Startled, McGee jumped back, his fingers tightening on his weapon, but relaxing again at the confusion that marred the young woman's face.

"Hey, you remember where you are?" He asked gently, tilting his head in an attempt to get a better look at her.

Kay drug her eyes up to his and nodded, "hell."

McGee couldn't help but smile a little at this. He remembered the few times he'd been on the wrong side of the interrogation room table. 'Hell' sounded about right.

Kay swung her legs over the side and dropped her head into her hands, catching her breath.

McGee debated asking her about the nightmare, but decided against it. Instead he jerked his chin slightly toward the mirror, "numerical analysis?"

After a moment she raised her head, pushing her long brown hair out of her face and followed his questioning gaze to the algorithms she'd scribbled out across the mirror.

"It helps me relax," she shrugged and smiled somewhat sheepishly, "that probably sounds a little crazy."

McGee smiled in return, thinking of the many nights he'd spent awake because of nightmares when he'd passed the time by optimizing his TCP-IP settings on his computer.

"Not as crazy as you might think," he said, moving back toward the door, "I hope you like thai," he pointed at the bag on the table, "I'm going to see about getting you a notebook. If my Boss sees what you did we're all dead."

McGee gave her a small smile and she returned it weakly. With a nod he turned to leave.

"Um Agent…"

He turned back and saw she was standing, "Mcgee."

"Agent McGee," she stuck her hands in her pockets, "um," she shrugged, "thanks."

McGee wasn't sure if she was talking about the food or waking her from the nightmare. He decided it didn't matter.

"You're welcome," he said, and left.

---

"Molly Rowe is clean," Tony sat back from his computer, pressing his hands to his eyes and rubbing tiredly. He felt like he'd been staring at his computer for years, his eyes were dry, his head hurt and his stomach growled loudly. He had eaten lunch, hadn't he?

"No connections to the CIA?" Ziva surmised, she pushed back from her own computer stretched luxuriously.

Tony shook his head, staring at his screen but reciting facts from memory, "father was a biology teacher before he retired and discovered a talent for growing watermelon, mother was a bookkeeper before she died of cancer in '99. No siblings. She's a kindergarten teacher with three cats and most of her boyfriends have been equally boring."

Ziva stood up and locked her knees, bending at the waist with her arms stretched over her head. Her spine cracked in protest of the extended amount of time spent in one position and she let her head hang down between her knees, hands resting on the floor.

He shook his head again, taking no notice of Ziva's extended stretch routine, "there's no reason that I can find for any of our three letter friends to be interested in her. FBI, CIA or anyone else."

She straightened and, noticing Tony's lack of attentiveness, tilted her head to one side and crossed her arms.

"Something on your mind Tony?"

Tony blinked and looked at her, "just the case, Ziva."

She narrowed her eyes, trying to decide whether or not to belive him and finally coming to the conclusion that she didn't.

"It's the girl, isn't it?"

Tony returned to his computer and studiously avoided her gaze along with ignoring her questions.

"It _is_ the girl," she moved over to stand in front of his desk and put her hands on top to lean over him, "what _is it_ about this girl that gets to you, Tony?"

"Nothing _gets to me_ about this girl, David," Tony said, looking up sharply, "I just think someone at the CIA is screwing her over and I don't think she deserves it."

Ziva started to retort and then stopped, the teasing smirk falling away and was replaced with a thoughtful frown.

"What?" Tony asked, sensing the change.

"The CIA," Ziva muttered and straightened, "Kay was driving a stolen vehicle. How did the CIA know which car to hack?"

Tony furrowed his brow, thinking.

"Satellites," he said after a moment.

"What?"

"A couple of years ago we got an anonymous tip that a murder had been witnessed on a Virginia beach. Turns out, a couple of the techs were using CIA satellites to spy on sunbathers," he returned to his computer, fingers flying over the keys with renewed vigor.

"Yeah, the Thomas Egan case," he said, and Ziva came to his side of the desk to peer over his shoulder, "there's no reason they couldn't do the same thing deliberately, find her, hack her, clean up all their little loose ends in one fell swoop, all without ever getting their hands dirty."

"Sneaky," Ziva commented and, sliding her eyes over to look at Tony, she turned so her mouth was practically brushing his skin, showing her usual disregard for personal space, "so, what will Gibbs say?"

Tony glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, "about the satellites?"

"About you and the girl."

Tony sighed, "why don't you go see if you can confirm data output for the CIA satellites. They're not supposed to be pointed at US soil. If we can prove they were, we'll have something concrete to prove Kay's innocence."

Ziva lingered a moment longer than necessary and then straightened, walking back over to her own desk, feeling Tony's glare the entire time.

---

Abby sighed heavily and glared at her computer. Another dead end.

"Nothing?" McGee queried, walking into the lab in time to hear her depressed sigh, though he could easily see the blinking red 'no matches' alert on her screen.

"No," Abby glanced back to look at him and then shuffled over to her printer and picked up the picture of young Kay, "McGee over 5,000 kids were reported missing in the years of 1991 and '92, none of them match our girl."

"She's not 'our girl', Abs," Gibbs entered the lab and walked over to the other two standing near the printer, "she's a suspect in a hinky murder investigation."

"She's not a suspect, Gibbs, I told you about the hack," Abby protested, " besides it's sad. Whoever this girl was, nobody was looking for her."

"So either she's lying or…" McGee began.

"or nobody knew she was missing." Gibbs finished, reaching out to take the picture.

"Nobody knew? What, she's got an evil twin who's been living her life for the past decade and a half?" Abby scoffed, "That's like-"

"Where'd you get this picture, Abby?"

She stopped short at the unusual tone of his voice and glanced at McGee before answering.

"It's the girl in interrogation when she was about eight years old," Abby told him hesitantly, "why what's-"

"You screwed up McGee," Gibbs cut her off and turned to look at his junior feild agent, his eyes hard, "this is _not _the girl in interrogation."

"Yeah it is, Boss," the younger man defended with only slightly less confidence than he felt due to Gibbs' glare, "it's the exact same program we used on Ari and there's only a 2% margin for error." He glanced at Abby, but she seemed just as confused as he at Gibbs' severe reaction.

"Then this is in the two percent."

"No, Boss," McGee frowned, trying to understand why Gibbs was protesting the evidence, "look, I ran the calculations twice and Abby checked my work. This _is _Kay fifteen years ago."

There was a beat of silence then Gibbs suddenly turned and left the lab at a near run.

"Okay…what just happened?" Abby asked, still staring after Gibbs.

"I...really...don't know."

Abby frowned. "Well?"

McGee looked at her, "well what?"

"Go after him Tim!" She said, flinging an exasperated hand toward the door.

"Are you kidding? Did you _see_ his face?"

"Fine," Abby pursed her lips, looking extremely displeased, and turned to yank off her lab coat, "if you won't go, then I will."

"Abby…" he started, but she was already gone. And, seeing no other choice, he went after her.

---

When Abby got to the observation room, Ziva was already there and McGee was on her heels.

"What happened?" she asked, pulling up beside the Israeli.

"Nothing. Gibbs just burst in there and…" she trailed off and pointed. The man in question stood motionless at the door, his eyes locked with Kay's. The girl had a pencil poised and ready over a notebook page filled with writing, but her attention was all focused on Gibbs.

"What's that paper Gibbs has?"

Abby shook her head, "I don't know, but apparently Gibbs does."

"Gibbs does what?"

They al turned to see Tony entering the room.

"Hey, how come I wasn't invited to the party?" He asked, handing Ziva a cup of coffee and sipping his own carefully, "so what's…"

He was shushed harshly and raised his eyebrows, turning to see what it was exactly that had captured the team's attention so raptly.

---

Gibbs stepped forward and Kay tracked his movements closely.

Without a word, he dropped the picture onto the table and she looked down. He pursed his lips and didn't move, waiting for her reaction. Kay stared at the picture, confused at first, wondering how he'd gotten it. Then her eyes slowly moved to the right, recalling memories long ago pushed down into oblivion.

With a snap her eyes returned to his, a whispered curse on her breath.

Gibbs licked his lips.

"Name," He said, his voice almost too quiet to hear.

She took a deep breath, shaking her head in disbelief even as she spoke.

"Kelly Marie Gibbs."

_TBC_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: **Okay, sorry about the delay with this one, but it's such a crucial chap, I wanted to be sure it was ready before I posted. I'm not sure if it's completely right, but it's as close as I could get. **mel **- _thanks!_, **diana teo** -_ lol, ya think? I told my muse it was a crazy idea. She said that was why she liked it. ; P _, So here is the next chap. Continue reviewing please, esp if you have questions. As **diana teo **so aptly pointed out, this plot bunny is on the major side and I want to make sure I remember to explain everything but my memory is not the best...thanks everybody and, as always, ENJOY! -pj

---

"What?"

"Holy shit."

"It can't be."

"Oh my God."

The four people in the the observation room spoke in tandem in quiet whispers that fell away into the silence they'd come from. Abby covered her mouth, McGee and Tony's mouths dropped open and Ziva's eyebrows hit her hair line and they watched in disbelief what was happening on the other side of the glass.

---

Kelly stared wide-eyed up at Gibbs, searching his face and her memory, trying to see if she could reconcile the two.

She gasped.

"Dad?" her voice was barely audible and Gibbs tilted his head to one side minutely, a microscopic narrowing of his eyes accompanying the movement.

"They told me you were dead," it was not a question but did not hold the same certainty a statement would have.

Gibbs nodded, unable to voice the fact that he'd been told the same.

She nodded in return and for several minutes neither dared breathe, let alone move, their matching blue eyes trying to take in every minute detail of the other.

Gibbs was so focused on her face that when she suddenly jumped up from her chair and began pacing at the far end of the small room she came as close to startling him as anyone had done in about twenty years.

Avoiding looking in his direction, she stared at the floor, cracking her knuckles or pushing her hair behind her ears in turn.

"I always knew the CIA was devious and underhanded and sneaky but I never thought…" she trailed off, shaking her head at herself and bit her lip.

"I never should have come here, I never should have stayed. I mean the door was locked but I could have left. I should have left. I could've picked the lock or or, I don't know, climbed through the ventilation shafts or something," she rambled, gesturing wildly at the door and the ceiling as if escape was still in her grasp. Gibbs watched her tirade silently, whether for lack of something to say or the ability to say it, he wasn't sure.

Kelly, on the other hand, couldn't stop.

"Oh my god their gonna come after me, I mean, I guess they're already after me since I'm pretty sure that 'accident' at the gate was some sort of sanctioned attempt at clean up, but now their gonna come after you too. Holy shit. _Shit_, this is so not good," she stopped mumbling and bit her lip again, glancing frantically around the room at anything but Gibbs, looking like a coiled spring ready to burst.

"You know this would never have happened if I had gone to the FBI. But _no _I had to go with the best. Had to have NCIS, nothing else would do," she was muttering more to herself than anyone and kept rolling her eyes self-depreciatingly. Gibbs was struck with the sudden realization that when she paced like that, and bit her lip that way, her hair falling just so…she was the spitting image of Shannon. How had he missed it?

He almost smiled.

"Kelly," his voice was so soft not even the interrogation room mics picked it up, but immediately the girl froze.

Slowly, she turned to look at him, waiting.

"C'mere." He gestured slightly with his head, his eyes never leaving her face. Obediently, Kelly moved forward until she was standing directly in front of him. She tilted her chin to look up into his face and the sight of his kind, affectionate blue eyes staring back down at her took her breath away. Had it really been fifteen years since she'd looked into those eyes?

As if reading her thoughts, a small ironic smile tugged on the corner of Gibbs mouth.

"You haven't changed a bit," he whispered, incapable of mustering more strength from his voice.

An almost identical half-smile claimed Kelly's pink lips, "if that were true you would have seen it was me right off the bat."

Gibbs slowly raised his arm until it was resting against the side of her face, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb.

"I'm seeing you now, Kelly," he said quietly.

She nodded and her eyes grew glassy. Her voice broke as she whispered, "dad."

Gibbs pulled her to his chest just as Kelly began to lean forward. They crashed into one another, fifteen years worth of sorrow, hope and love silently being poured into the tears they shed.

---

Tony watched as Gibbs raised his hand to Kelly's cheek and turned to look over his shoulder.

"Charlie," he said. The man at the monitors looked up and caught sight of Tony making the 'kill' gesture. He nodded and a second later, the feed went dead.

Gibbs and the girl they now knew to be Kelly, half-fell, half-walked into each other's arms. Abby linked her own arm through McGee's tightly, and smiled a soft, teary eyed smile.

"C'mon guys, lets give these two some privacy." She turned and led the way to the Observation Room door, McGee on her elbow, Tony, Ziva and Charlie on her six.

---

Half an hour later the team was in the Squad Room along with Abby who sat on the edge of McGee's desk, trying to look busy and trying even harder not to talk amongst themselves. Gibbs had taught them to use their instincts and anticipate, and right now every instinctual fiber of their beings was telling them that what had just gone down in interrogation did not need to be made public knowledge.

They all looked up when Gibbs exited the elevator and breezed into their Unit, quickly shutting down his computer and gathering his things.

"Boss?" DiNozzo was the only one that dared speak.

"Finish up what you're doing, meet me at my house in an hour. Tell Duck," he said, not looking up.

Just as quickly as he'd entered he turned to leave and, as he did so, reached out to smack DiNozzo hard on the back of the head.

"What was that for?" Tony asked, looking wounded.

"You know exactly what for, DiNozzo," Gibbs threw over his shoulder, not looking back as he stepped smoothly onto the elevator and disappeared from sight.

"Tony," Ziva said, turning a small smirk on her partner, "you're hammered."

Tony frowned and looked at her briefly, and then, realizing her meaning, looked back at his computer, "screwed, Ziva. And yes, I am."

---

"Oh wow," Kelly stopped abruptly just inside the door and looked around, "I remember that smell."

Gibbs flipped on a couple of lights and turned to her, eyebrow raised, "what smell?"

"Home," she said, somewhat wistfully, and closed her eyes, "sawdust…gunpowder and…" she frowned, struggling with the last part of the familiar aroma, "coffee."

She opened her eyes and grinned, welcoming the choppy memories that suddenly flooded her minds' eye. She and her mom in the kitchen when her dad must have been deployed, making cookies and laughing hysterically, though she couldn't hazard a guess at what. She and her dad in her bedroom, playing tea party and dolls. Both her parents in the living room, her father pretending to be horrified when she yelled 'Yahtzee' for the third time that evening.**  
**

Gibbs smiled and shook his head, unaware of the movie clips playing in her head.

"C'mon, I"ll show you to your room."

But to his surprise, Kelly beat him to the stairs, "I remember the way," and she bounded up them two at a time.

Kelly wrapped her hand around the knob of the last door on the right in the upstairs hall and slowly pushed it open. It smelled slightly of dust and stale air, and she guessed neither the door nor windows had been opened in some time. She turned in a slow circle, taking everything in.

Her furniture was the same, white with brass hardware, over-the-top girlie just the way she liked. When she was eight years old anyway. The bedspread was the same as well, a pink frilly number she'd picked out when she was five or six. But those were the only things that seemed to have remained unchanged.

"You painted," she commented, keeping her voice carefully neutral. The walls, which when she'd 'left' had been a pale pink, were now white. And on her shelves where there used to be books and stuffed animals, there was now either emptiness or nondescript cardboard boxes.

She looked at Gibbs still standing in the doorway wearing an indecipherable expression. He'd hardly been able to take her eyes off her since the interrogation room, a part of him still expecting to snap awake any second to the sound of his cell phone ringing.

"I'm glad," she assured him and shrugged, "it would have been unhealthy if you hadn't at least tried to move on."

Jethro just tilted his head, glad she wasn't upset and unwilling to correct her mistaken assumption that the reason the room was different was that he'd tried to 'move on'. He wasn't sure he knew how to 'move on'. But when he'd been toying with the idea of selling the house in favor of Mexico, the realtor had convinced him the room would look better to perspective buyers if not so…pink.

"Make yourself at home," he said finally, "you are."

Kelly smiled and looked down at herself. It wasn't as if she'd packed a bag before she left Agency HQ in something close to a terrified sprint. She reached into her pocket and found a quarter. Her eyes alight, she held it up for him to see and then went over to the dresser and purposefully placed it on top.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow and stifled a smile. Everything she did seemed to make him smile.

"All settled?"

She turned back to him, hands on her hips to accompany her self-satisfied grin.

"Yup. So, you still got a boat in the basement?"

---

Tony, Ziva, McGee and Abby appeared on Gibbs' front porch an hour later on the tick. The door was never locked, which they all knew, so Abby took the initiative and let them all in. Almost immediately they heard the familiar sound of sandpaper on wood in the basement, followed by the unfamiliar sound of laughter coming from the same source.

As they grew nearer, they were able to distinguish two distinct laughs. One quiet and low, the other was high and carefree giggles that seemed at odds with the subdued occupant of the home.

"Oh my gosh, and you still hired him?" Kelly sounded disbelieving.

Gibbs shrugged, smiling as he sipped the alcohol in his mug, "he's a damn fine agent."

Kelly nodded, her back to him as she ran her fingers reverently along the smooth lines of the hand crafted boat. She came to the stern and read the name, her eyes snapping up to his sharply.

"Kelly?"

Gibbs eyes met hers and the heartbreaking combination of pain and love she saw breifly flash in them, made her breath catch. In an instant she felt the weight of guilt in her stomach, surely there was something she could have done, some way she should have known, found him sooner...

She forced her eyes back down to the boat, unable to keep looking at him and she wondered how many of these boats he'd built. Judging by the well-crafted nature of it probably quite a number. Had he named all of them after her?

Gibbs had heard the front door open and close and his eyes moved to the top of the stairs, where he and Kelly had accumulated a small, curious audience.

Kelly followed his gaze and grinned, "Officer David, nice to see you again. You too Agent McGee," her smile changed slightly, as did her tone, "Agent DiNozzo."

The senior agent allowed himself a small smile before turning away, aware that everyone had heard the warmth of her voice, and he deliberately avoided Gibbs' scowl.

"I don't believe we've met," Kelly said, her eyes falling on Abby and Ducky, the last to descend the stairs.

"Dr. Donald Mallard, a pleasure to meet you my dear," Ducky smiled warmly and tipped his hat. Kelly smiled, amused by his old-fashioned greeting and responded in kind.

"The pleasure is all mine," she turned to the tall woman in pigtails standing to her right.

"Abby Scuito. Forensic Scientist Extraordinaire," Abby supplied, grinning madly.

"Nice to meet you," Kelly nodded and added, "I dig your threads."

"Oh thanks," Abby glanced down at her black skull and crossbones tee shirt and green pleated miniskirt, topped off with knee-high platform boots, "and as an official Gibblet, you get exclusive closet raiding privileges," Abby assured her with a grin.

Kelly looked slight confused at the 'Gibblet' comment but smiled brightly and thanked her, promising to take her up on the offer.

"So, what is the plan?" Ziva cleared her throat after proper introductions had been made, "I can only assume she is not going back to the CIA."

"'Ya think, Officer David?" Kelly said, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. When she looked back she found everyone leveling her with strange looks.

"What?"

McGee shook his head and Ziva and Tony exchanged a glance. "Nothing."

"So..?" Ziva raised her eyebrows, letting the question hang in the air.

"She needs to go off the radar," McGee said finally.

"Easier said than done, Timmy," Abby placed her hands on her hips, looking at McGee then Tony and Ziva, "if the CIA was able to track her once, what's to stop them from doing it again?"

"She needs to disappear," Ziva surmised, studying the cement floor as if the answer to their predicament lay hidden somewhere in the sawdust that covered it.

"Well, in my experience, the easiest way to disappear," Ducky stepped forward, drawing everyone's attention, "is simply to die."

Tony laughed somewhat humorlessly, "Oh c'mon Duck, you're not suggesting we kill…"

"Of course not Anthony," he cut him off before he had a chance to finish, "but an autopsy report and an order for cremation is usually compelling enough evidence when looking for proof of the deceased," he raised his eyebrows. Slowly, the team caught on to what he was suggesting.

"I will talk to the Corporal and Charlie, be sure they understand that the only way Kelly, Kay, entered the building, was in a body bag," Ziva volunteered.

"Be nice, Ziva," Tony warned, glancing warily at his partner.

"I'm always nice, Tony."

Abby gasped, raising her eyebrows and her hands the way she did when she'd suddenly had a stroke of genius.

"I create identities for undercover ops all the time. I can set her up with a new driver's license, background, birth certificate, the whole shebang."

"We'll have to get rid of all the video and documented evidence of her ever entering the building," McGee spoke up, looking at Abby. She nodded in agreement.

"Hey," Gibbs voice stopped them all mid-campfire and they turned.

He was sitting on a stool near the workbench several feet away from the rest of the group. He looked up from the coffee mug half full of bourbon in his hands at his team.

"I can't ask you to do this," he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. Abby looked at McGee, McGee at Ziva, Ziva at Ducky and then they all turned to Tony, who's eyes had never left Gibbs. They were all well aware that they were risking everything. Falsifying evidence, reports and a number of other violations that, if ever discovered, could potentially end their careers if not send them to Leavenworth.

It didn't matter.

"You don't have to, Boss. We're volunteering."

Gibbs leveled him with a stare for several moments, which Tony returned with a steady confidence that he rarely allowed to show.

Finally, Gibbs nodded and Tony took it as his sign off. He turned to Kelly who was leaning against the boat, her eyes wide and arms crossed tightly over her chest.

"You okay with this?"

She blinked at him and nodded.

"It's not like it's the first time I've been dead," she said with a wry smile. She didn't catch Gibbs' wince.

"Alright, lets get to work everybody," Tony clapped his hands and sent everyone off on their tasks, "and remember rule four."

Ziva paused on the stairs and frowned, "always have a knife?"

"Never be unreachable," McGee guessed.

Gibbs pursed his lips and glared at his the two junior members of his team. They glanced at one another, each hoping to find the answer in the other's face.

Abby rolled her eyes, "no. The best way to keep a secret-"

"-keep it to yourself," Tony finished. The team filed up the stairs and out the door, nodding their understanding of the timely advice.

"And what exactly are you going to do, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked.

Tony grinned, "taking Kelly shopping of course," he raised his eyebrows, "I assume you don't have any clothes hanging around that are in her size?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, though he had to admit the agent had a point.

Kelly looked from one man to the other, "aren't you coming?" she asked, somewhat hesitantly. Gibbs looked at her and smiled gently, hoping to ease the uncertainty saw her fighting not to show.

"Gotta go do some damage control with the director," he jerked his chin towards the stairs, "before those four go off half-cocked she needs a heads up."

She mouthed 'oh' and nodded, moving toward the stairs. Then she stopped as if something had just occurred to her and turned back to look at Gibbs. He was standing there beside his boat, mug in hand, his eyes sharp and watchful just the way she remembered and the strange feeling of déjà vu washed over her. A feeling with which she was becoming very well acquainted.

She suddenly rushed back across the room and flung her arms around Gibbs' neck, hugging him tightly for several seconds. Gibbs returned her embrace, a part of him still hardly able to believe it was really her. Really Kelly. His Kelly.

She stepped back and gave him a smile and turned, briefly meeting Tony's eyes and giving him a similar, but completely different, smile, before making her way up the steps and out of the basement, muttering something about 'wanting a shower'.

Tony watched her go, unaware of the slightly whistful smile on his own face until he turned back around and nearly jumped out of his skin to find Gibbs standing inches from his face.

"Something wrong, Boss?" he asked, his signature happy-go-lucky tone faltering somewhat under the weight of Gibbs' glare.

The older man didn't respond, merely continued to stare for several seconds.

"See something you like, DiNozzo?" Gibbs finally broke the tense silence with a deathly quiet whisper.

Tony faught not to fidget and swallowed, unsure of how to answer. He wasn't exactly afraid of Gibbs. At least, not usually. But the man was unpredicatable as hell when it came to some things, and fiercely, frighteningly predictable when it came to others. Unfortunatley for Tony, things concerning Gibbs daughter were uncharted waters and the only thing he knew for sure, was that those waters were incredibly treacherous and possibly hazerdous to his health.

He made a non-commital noise in his throat and tried to look away, his eyes bouncing nervously around the room.

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, "be careful," he paused a beat, waiting until Tony's eyes came back to his "I don't need to tell you what I'll break if you hurt her, do I?"

Tony shook his head and swallowed again, his mouth impossibly dry, "No Boss, I gotcha'."

Gibbs nodded, "Good."

He still waited several seconds before moving. Then he stepped around Tony and made his way up the stairs, a small half-smirk on his lips that the younger man never saw.

Immediately Tony allowed his shoulders to slump and he closed his eyes, newly convinced that Abby had been right when she told him he had some sort of death wish.

He reached up and smacked himself on the back of the head.

_TBC_


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: **Is it just me, or are these chapters getting longer and longer? Thanks to everyone who is sticking with me and enjoying this, you know how much i love your reviews so keep 'em coming!! **diana teo** - _awesome, that was the reaction I was going for. Lol, I actually do get fics mixed up with the show all the time, I'm totally flattered you think it could happen with mine!_ -pj

---

Director Sheppard looked up from the endless paperwork littering her desk when she heard the knocking at the front door. The maid appeared from the kitchen and answered it.

"Ms. Sheppard? Mr. Gibbs is here to see you," she called back to her, though the Director could plainly see who it was.

"Let him in please, Naomi," she nodded and the maid opened the door further, allowing Gibbs entry.

He barely glanced at the young woman and strode purposefully down the hallway into the study.

"Jethro, you knocked," she said, sounding slightly amazed. Gibbs rolled his eyes and went to the small bar, pouring himself a drink. She raised an eyebrow, "but by all means, make yourself at home."

"Mm," he grunted, bringing a tumbler of whisky to his lips.

The Director waited until he'd taken a few sips, the tension in his shoulders telling her she should perhaps allow him this much.

Finally, he took his drink and sat in one of the tall-backed leather chairs opposite her desk.

"So, what can I do for you, Jethro?" she paused, "I trust this isn't a social call."

"Nope," Gibbs responded, staring down into his drink. He didn't expound.

The Director waited a beat and then, "are you going to tell me what this is about?"

Gibbs gulped down the last of his drink and then looked at her, "I want to talk to Jenny Sheppard."

She frowned, "last time I checked-"

"_Not_ the Director of NCIS."

Putting down her pen, she sat back in her chair and eyed him warily.

"Okay," she said, sounding a little hesitant, "I'm listening."

Gibbs leaned his elbows on his knees, swishing the remaining liquor around in the glass.

"You respond to that SI-BOLO yet?"

Jenny shook her head minutely, "no."

He looked up, "do it. Tell them she was DOA at the accident site."

Jenny frowned deeply, her lips tightening with the beginnings of anger. She sat forward and leaned her folded hands on the desk, "alright, what's going on."

Gibbs stubbornly kept his mouth shut.

"Look. If I'm going to _lie_ to the CIA I damn well want to know why. What do you know that you're not telling me?" Jenny demanded, and her look of steely-eyed determination reminded Gibbs of why she'd been such a good field agent.

He tilted his head to one side and glanced at the floor. He licked his lips before beginning, choosing his words carefully.

"She is twenty-three years old. Started working with the CIA fifteen years ago. She was told both her parents were dead when she was taken, but her father was serving overseas. A marine," Gibbs said, being deliberately vague. He could see the wheels turning in Jen's head as she took in what he was saying, "brown hair. Blue eyes. CIA alias: 'K'."

Jen saw the tense muscles of his jaw working under his skin, noticed the white knuckled grip he had on her whiskey tumbler.

_Fifteen years ago. Taken. A Marine. Blue eyes. K._

Her eyes flew open wide and locked with Gibbs'.

"No," she shook her head, "they wouldn't."

He gave her a hard-edged smile and brought the glass back to his lips, "oh, yeah. They would."

She sat back again in her chair. Suddenly she understood Gibbs' choice of drink, she was now having the same craving.

"Why?" she asked after a moment, still sounding somewhat disbelieving.

Gibbs set the glass on the edge of her desk and then reached into his jacket, pulling out a spiral bound notebook that had been folded in half to fit in the pocket, and tossed it onto the papers in front of her.

"Because she could do that."

Jenny glanced at him, confused, and began flipping through the pages. The first few after the ones that had been torn out had doodles and scribbled phone messages on them along with case numbers and what looked to be take out orders. But then all of a sudden the content changed, and the lined pages were filled with numbers and symbols, math so far over her head it was giving her sophomore year flashbacks.

"What is all this?"

"Game theory. Numerical analysis. Some physics too."

Jenny looked up at him.

"Someone who can do this when they're eight is probably going to catch the CIA's attention," she guessed.

"Ya think, Jen?" he said, sounding as though he was barely keeping his temper in check.

She took a deep breath, and pulled off her reading glasses.

"So what are you going to do about it?" she asked, steeling herself for whatever ridiculous plan of revenge Gibbs had hatched.

All at once his anger dissapated and he sighed, sitting back in the chair.

"Nothing."

"Nothing," Jen repeated, raising her eyebrows. That didn't sound like the Jethro Gibbs she knew.

"Yeah, Jen, nothing," Gibbs snapped, showing that his anger was not gone, just on a short leash, "if I go snooping around at the CIA, or have McGee or Abby hack them so I can find out what she was working on and who with, they're gonna know about it. And they're gonna figure out that she's still alive, and they'll want her back," he shook his head, "I won't risk losing her again."

Jenny narrowed her eyes at him, weighing his words against what she knew about the man. She believed the conviction in his voice and knew he was telling the truth. She could also see the tension in his spine and shoulders, the anger smoldering in his eyes that he was fighting to control.

This decision was costing him, but the father in Gibbs was willing to pay the price.

She nodded, "Good for you, Jethro."

With that, Gibbs stood, heading for the door, "if anybody needs me, I'll be at the shooting range."

"Try not to hurt anyone," she called to his back.

Gibbs pulled open the large, expensive door, "I make no promises, Jen," he responded, shutting the door behind him before she could respond.

---

Tony glanced at the girl in his passenger seat. She had her head leaning against the window, staring blankly at the scenery as they sped by. She'd been impressed at the sight of his '66 Gunmetal Gray mustang in Gibbs' driveway, causing Tony to wonder if the love for cars was hereditary. She hadn't said a word since climbing inside.

"You're awfully quiet," he said, breaking the silence with practiced ease.

Kelly turned to give him a teasing smile, "and how would you know, exactly?"

He shrugged, admitting he really didn't, "you just seemed more talkative before."

"Mm," was her only reply and she turned back toward the window.

Tony sighed, allowing another two city blocks to go by before trying again.

"Something bothering you?" he asked, then bit his tongue, immediately realizing his mistake. What wouldn't be bothering her?

Kelly whipped her head back around to face him, the still damp ends of her hair sticking to her cheek and lips, "You mean besides having to fake my death, _again_, and hope like hell no one questions it this time either?Something _other_ than finding out I've been lied to my entire life, that my father is in fact _not_ dead but living right here in DC a mere twenty miles away from the place I've called home? Like finding out he's spent fifteen years believing I was dead and built himself a new family without me isn't enough?"

She grit her teeth to stop her mouth, the image of her father's team in the basement still burned into her memory. Abby, McGee, Ziva, Dr. Mallard, Tony. Each and every one of them had been ready and willing to risk everything for him and, by extension, for her. They hadn't needed or wanted to be asked. Because it was Gibbs, and somehow she knew, because he'd do the same for them.

Kelly was ashamed to admit she was jealous of the small group. He was _her_ father, _damn it_. It wasn't like she'd asked to be taken from him. And now that so much time had passed, where did she belong? How was she supposed to fit into his world again?

Tony glanced at Kelly out of the corner of his eye. He didn't mind being the target of her anger. In fact, it made him feel a little bit better; it meant she wasn't keeping all the crap happening in her life bottled up. But his sharp ears latched onto the last part of her statement and he it was more than just nervous venting.

"Is that what you think he did?"

Kelly deflated a little, her anger turning to resignation, "it's not like I blame him Tony. I'm happy for him."

She was. She really _was _happy for him. Jealousy and happiness didn't have to be mutually exclusive.

Tony frowned. She was back to staring out the window, looking small and impossibly alone for a girl sitting two feet away from him.

Gibbs' smallest Marine Corps black t-shirt still dwarfed her, even with the sleeves rolled up and the bottom tied up so that it showed off her flat stomach, a fact Tony was trying steadfastly to ignore. She was slumped over, looking like she could barely keep her eyes open and he was almost tempted to let her nap. Almost.

"Kelly," he waited until she glanced at him, "Gibbs never stopped loving you. You have to believe that. You're his _daughter_," he paused, emphasizing the word to be sure she understood him.

Kelly remainned silent, watching him closely.

"Gibbs is…we're all…" he sighed, struggling with voicing his thoughts appropriately. This wasn't usually so difficult, but there was something about Kelly's presence that seemed to make his tounge not function properly.

"Abby likes to say we're family and I guess, in some ways, we are," he turned to Kelly and smiled, "that doesn't mean you can't be a part of it. Or that you're not already."

Slowly the tension in her shoulders melted away.

"Okay," she returned his smile with a nod and reached over to touch his free hand that resting on the console between them, "thanks."

Tony stiffened slightly under her touch. He didn't pull away, but he didn't return it either.

"So, why now?" he asked, changing the subject.

She frowned, "why now, what?"

"Why try to find all this out now? Why not next week, or ten years ago?"

"Oh," she pulled her hand back and crossed her arms over her chest, slumping down in the seat again, "my handler recently retired. He took me out to dinner on his last day and dropped the bomb. Said the Agency had been lying to him. To me. That my dad was still alive. He didn't say who he was or where, just that he was alive. Out there somewhere. He said he'd only just found out but…people say a lot of things. For all I know he's known this entire time," she muttered, and then shrugged, turning back to the window, "That was three months ago, it took me this long to figure out how to get away."

She stopped talking, her forehead back to leaning against the window and this time Tony allowed the silence to remain.

"Sears?" Kelly asked when they parked, raising an eyebrow at him.

He shrugged, "a girly store would look suspicious on Gibbs' credit card."

She nodded, getting out of the car and following him into the store, "okay, but…Sears?"

---

Abby sighed contentedly for the third time in as many minutes and McGee glanced over at her from the laptop he'd set up on the counter across from her desk.

"Abbs?"

She looked up, flashing a bright grin that had been a permanent fixture on her face since leaving Gibbs basement.

"It's just so great McGee," she said, propping her chin on her hands.

McGee raised an eyebrow, "risking our careers and pissing off the CIA?"

Abby shrugged, "yeah, that. But I mean this whole thing with Gibbs daughter. They get a second chance. How many people can say that?" she shook her head in amazement and returned to her computer, "I'm thinking his cousin from California."

McGee wrinkled his nose, "niece from Rhode Island."

"Oh, I like," she pointed at him and nodded, "his first wife's sister's kid."

"Did his first wife have a sister?" McGee asked absently, filling in the necessary information that Tony had texted him on the new driver's licence.

Abby hit a few keys on her keyboard, "she does now."

McGee snorted and smiled.

"Straight 'a' student?"

"Yeah. With serious math skills."

He looked at her again, "you don't think that'll draw attention."

"Not like genius stuff, just advanced for her age," she gave him a knowing look, "you ever notice how whenever you go undercover your persona always has a pretty high level of education? A tiger can't change it's stripes McGee. If I made you a mechanic with an eighth grade education your cover would be blown before the op even started."

McGee nodded, "good point."

The only sound in the lab for a while was the typing of keyboards and the occasional sipping of Caf-Pow!, Abby having forgone the loud music so as not to draw attention from the cleaning staff.

"It might not be as great as you think, Abby," McGee commented after several minutes had gone by.

"What do you mean?" she looked up, frowning.

"I mean…it's been a long time. Things have changed. They've changed," he looked at her seriously, "it might not be as easy to go back as they'd like."

Abby dipped her chin and smiled, "I know that, Timmy," she said, using a tone that said he wasn't bringing up anything she hadn't thought of four hours ago, "family is never easy. And besides, they're not going to be in this alone. They have all of us."

McGee took a moment to consider and then smiled, "I guess you're right."

"Of course I am," she sat forward again, giving her computer a stern look, "now, I'm thinking an overnight in lockup for disorderly conduct during her rebellious teen years."

McGee's head whipped around, his eyebrows nearly at his hairline, "you wouldn't."

Abby grinned deviously, "Oh c'mon McGee, don't try and tell me that you never got caught at a rowdy party that the cops broke up."

He frowned deeply, rolling his eyes and going back to his computer.

"Okay…maybe you didn't," she typed a few words and clicked her mouse, "but Gibbs daughter has."

She grinned and McGee shook his head, imagining the look on the Gibbs' faces when they found out Kelly had a record.

"This will end badly."

---

Kelly quickly educated Tony on her style, dismissing several items of clothing he held up for her approval with a swift shake of her head and a mumbled explanation. Too frilly, too frumpy. I don't do paisley. Butterflies either. What am I five? Oh, don't even go there. Too brown, too polka dotted, too ugly. You're kidding me, right? All the while Tony would relay one of McGee's questions for her background and text the other agent her answers.

"Five-five and a buck thirty, really?"

"Watch it, DiNozzo."

After an hour he gave up. Throwing his hands in the air in defeat, he muttered 'women' in a tone that made Kelly smirk, and went to find a skirt she liked in a different size.

She was bent over, flipping through a stack of dark wash jeans on a display table when a male voice from behind made her freeze.

"Kay?"

Barely catching the reflexive response to turn around, she managed to keep her back to the voice.

"Kay," the man moved so he was beside her and she was able to catch sight of him in her peripheral vision.

Since ignoring him was no longer an optino, she looked up, "do I know you?"

"It's me, Kay. Michael," he said, pointing to himself. He wore a pair of black slacks and a tucked in yellow polo that was in stark contrast to his dark skin.

She smiled politely and shook her head, "I think you must have me confused with someone else."

"No, it's me. From New York," he said, his smile faltering with her apparent lack of recognition.

"I've never been to New York," she said, sounding embarrassed, "sorry."

She tried to turn away, but her stepped into her path.

"Oh c'mon, Kay. You've got to remember. The little hotel we found outside Glens Falls?" he said, dropping his voice and raising his eyebrows.

Kelly stepped back, "Um, look, Michael, I don't know you, okay? I told you, I've never been to New York. Tony?" She called out for the agent, and had barely raised her eyes to look for him when he appeared beside her, slipping his arm around her waist protectively.

"Something wrong, babe?" he directed the question at Kelly, but was looking at Michael, who took a step back when Tony appeared.

Kelly found herself shrinking into Tony's side and shook her head, "just a case of mistaken identity, I think."

Michael looked between the two a few times, his frown deepening as the seconds passed.

"Uh, yeah. I guess, um, I guess I just made a mistake," he looked at Kelly, "sorry, ma'am." He turned and quickly walked away.

"An old friend?" Tony asked, once he was out of earshot.

Kelly's eyes were glued to Michael's back, "an ex."

"Think he'll say anything?"

She shook her head, finally looking up at Tony, "no. Either he believed us and thinks he made a mistake, or he doesn't and thinks I'm deep cover and couldn't afford to say I recognized him. Either way he won't want to tell anyone."

Tony nodded, accepting her logic.

"You ready to go?" he asked, somewhat hopefully.

She rolled her eyes and grinned, "yeah. Now we've got to go get my hair done."

His face fell, "what?"

"I need a new cut and color," she gestured toward where Michael disappeared, "we don't want that to happen again, do we? And you're buying."

"Why am _I _buying?"

"Because 'girly stores would look suspcios on dad's credit card'," she said, quoting is words back to him.

Tony sighed heavily and dropped his hand to the small of her back, guiding her to the checkout, "fine. Fine. Fine. But after that we're going for pizza and beer. And sports. Lots and lots of sports."

Kelly shrugged, "I like football."

Tony's eyebrows shot up and he suddenly looked interested, "reeeeaaaally…"

_TBC_


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **It's late, I'm tired...Was tired an hour and a half ago when I started writing this chapter, so I must claim all mistakes and typos for mine own. I haven't had a chance yet to respond to reviews either but I definately will cuz they make my little world go round. Thanks for reading and drop me a line if you feel so inclined, I'll try to have the next chap up either tomorrow or the next day. -pj

---

Ziva frowned down at her hand. The doorknob had not turned as expected. She tried once more and, when the small object remained firmly in place, even when jiggled healthily, she stepped back with confusion.

In that moment there was the sound of a lock clicking and the door swung open.

"Ziva," Gibbs said with one eyebrow raised, "it's two am."

"Your door is locked," she said, not at all bothered by his abrupt greeting.

"Yup," he said, nodding once. He turned toward the kitchen, leaving the door open for her to follow.

Ziva did, closing the troublesome door behind her.

"Your door is never locked," she said in the same 'halfway between confused and annoyed' tone.

Gibbs had stopped at the kitchen counter in front of the coffee maker and poured himself a mug. He looked at her over the rim of it as he took a sip.

"Right again, Ziva."

Ziva continued to frown at him for several minutes before shaking her head, deciding she wasn't going to get a straight answer from him. Or any answer at all for that matter, not that she needed it. If it were her who was harboring a family member, presumed dead, who was now hiding from the CIA, she'd lock the door too.

She held up the large, sealed envelope she had under her arm for him to see.

"Kelly's new identity," she said in response to his unvoiced question, "I was leaving the office when Abby finished and she seemed dead on her legs so I offered to bring it over."

Gibbs nodded, not bothering to correct her English and motioned for her to put it on the counter.

"Thanks. Now go home. Get some rest."

The woman nodded and started to make her way toward the door but stopped halfway down the hall.

"Something else?" Gibbs asked, not looking up from the packet that still lay sealed on the counter.

"Yes," she said, turning back, clasping her hands in front of her in a way that was formal on anyone else but relaxed for her, "Lance Corporal Steven Robinson's funeral is tomorrow at ten am."

Gibbs eyes slid up to her, "so?"

Ziva shrugged slightly and took a step back toward the kitchen, and the soft yellow light it was bathed in, "you might want to consider stopping by. With Kelly," she said slowly and glanced up from the floor to find Gibbs still staring at her. She sighed, "she feels guilty Gibbs, even though there was nothing she could have done. She needs closure."

Gibbs turned to look straight ahead at the other side of the kitchen, keeping her in his peripheral vision, "I never took you for the coddling type, Ziva."

"I'm not," she said, sounding indignant at the implication, "but if the CIA is still looking for Kelly, then she needs to be careful. People who feel guilty about another's death, are not careful," she said it so forcefully that Gibbs glanced at her, the passion in her voice telling him she was speaking from experience. And not the good kind, "they make mistakes. And mistakes get you killed," she finished quietly.

After a moment, Gibbs nodded minutely and, with a short nod in return, Ziva allowed herself a deep breath before turning and letting herself out the same way she'd come in.

Gibbs stared at the door long after the sound of Ziva's car pulling away had faded. Her words, the haunted look in her eyes, kept ringing in his mind. The same haunted look he sometimes caught in Kelly's eyes when she didn't realize he was watching.

With a sigh, he slung back the rest of the cool coffee and with a passing glance at the envelope Ziva had delivered, he left the kitchen, locking the front door on his way upstairs.

---

Kelly slid into a seat at the kitchen table and curled up onto it, the chilly morning air sending goosbumps across the exposed skin of her shoulders and arms. She was really beginning to regret the spaghetti strap shirt and pajama shorts ensemble after finding how low Gibbs set the thermostat. She stuck her hand into the box of cereal she'd snagged from the pantry and picked up the envelope Ziva had left the night before. Frosted flakes fell onto the table as she lay the contents out before her. When her eyes fell on the name on the drivers license she laughed.

"What's so funny?" Gibbs asked, placing a mug of coffee in front of her and sitting in a chair.

She held out the ID for him to see, "Tracy Draco. That's the name they picked."

Gibbs nodded and dropped it on the table, "so?"

Kelly gave him a incredulous look, "she's a Bond girl from the sixties. The only one Bond truly loved."

"Don't most Bond Girls die?" Gibbs asked, sipping his coffee carefully.

Kelly shrugged, "yeah, but this one was great while she lasted."

Gibbs just shook his head, sure DiNozzo had something to do with the choice.

Kelly stared at the license, her frosted flakes momentarily forgotten.

"Something wrong?" he asked, noticing the way her smile was waning.

She shook her head, quickly looking away and plastering a small smile on her face.

"hey," he said softly, tilting his head to look her in the eye, "tell me."

Kelly hesitated, resisting the urge to shrug, "I guess…I was just kinda looking forward to being 'Kelly Gibbs' again, you know?" she looked up at him and the raw innocence he saw in her eyes made his gut twist.

He reached over to take her hand without a thought, "you listening to me?"

She nodded, biting her lip and averting her eyes.

"Look at me," Gibbs ordered quietly and she did, "you will _always_ be Kelly Gibbs," he said slowly, "always."

Kelly nodded again, looking as if at least part of the large burden she carried had been alleviated.

He gave her a small smile and shooed her upstairs, "go get dressed."

"You haven't told me where we're going."

"Just go."

Kelly rolled her eyes but stood, taking her mug of coffee and bringing it to her lips. She stopped abruptly at the foot of the stairs and turned to him with a disgusted expression.

"What _is_ this?" She asked.

"Coffee," Gibbs said, giving her a strange look when she put it on the table and backed away.

"No Dad," she shook her head, a look of repulsion still contorting her face as she finally disappeared up the stairs, "that is _not_ coffee."

Gibbs eyed the abandoned mug and then took a sip. He 'ah'ed appreciatively.

"Good stuff."

_TBC_


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N:** I'm back! Okay, we're winding down now, so if there's anything I haven't answered yet, speak now or forever hold your fic, cool?** diana teo** - _I'm not sure, but probably 'throw a horseshoe in and if it stands up by itself the coffe's done' strong. lol._ I think two chapters after this, okay everybody? Thanks to all the readers, special thanks to the reviewers and lurkers, luv you too chums! Enjoy! -pj

---

Kelly had not been to many funerals in her life, ironically, the few she had been to had been for people who were not really dead, and perhaps that was why she felt so out of place at this one.

Or it could have been the fact that the man in the coffin wouldn't even _be _dead if it weren't for her.

The sky was the most perfect shade of blue she'd ever seen, not a cloud in sight. The sun shining happily on the gloomy occasion as if to make a mockery of the mourners below.

Kelly scowled and shoved her hands further into her low-rise jeans, shifting uncomfortably on her feet, where she still wore her converse shoes.

Gibbs glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. When she'd caught sight of the funeral procession about fifteen minutes ago she'd thrown him an incredulous look and stopped dead in her tracks, refusing to go any further. The light summer wind whipped at her brown hair but she paid no attention, her eyes remaining firmly fixed on the funeral that lay half a football field away.

He jerked his chin toward it, "lets go."

Kelly shook her head stubbornly, "they don't want me there."

"How do you know?" he asked in a voice that rivaled her in it's quietness.

She raised an lowered one shoulder, "because if it were you in that coffin, I certainly wouldn't want 'me' there."

Gibbs didn't press the subject, understanding her meaning perfectly. Eventually the people began filing away to their cars, which were lined up in endless rows along the pathways that wound through the small cemetery, orange funeral flags flapping from the windows. An older woman, presumably the Lance Corporal's mother, was the last to leave, bending low to lay a gentle kiss on the wooden coffin before being led away by a tall, strong looking man, a folded flag held tight to her chest.

The cemetery fell back into it's customary silence after the last of the cars left for the wake, and it stayed that way for nearly ten minutes before Kelly drew back her shoulders and started forward.

The few rows of chairs that were left facing the coffin were empty, an 11 x 14 photo of Robinson in his Dress Blues facing the empty chairs stoically.

Kelly bit her lip, reaching into a nearby pot of flowers with the hand not balled tightly in her pocket, and nervously placing it on top of the coffin among the other flowers left by friends and family.

After the deed was done she quickly stepped back, almost running into Gibbs in the process.

"It's not fair, you know?" she said, her voice somber, not matching the bubbly personality he was becoming used to, "he didn't deserve this."

He followed her gaze back to the service photo and pursed his lips, nodding.

"They seldom do."

Kelly sighed and Gibbs didn't need to look at her to see the guilt in her eyes. Without a word he lifted one arm, draping it across her shoulders and pulling her into his side.

Without hesitation, Kelly melded into it, wrapping her own arms around his waist and resting her head on his shoulder, hoping he wouldn't see the tears clouding her eyes from that position.

Gibbs turned to place a soft kiss on top of her head and dropped his mouth so she could hear him say softly, "and neither did you, Kel."

She closed her eyes, holding his soothing words against open and bleeding wounds in her heart.

Gibbs stood there, stroking her hair as he waited for her grip on his waist to lighten and he almost laughed to think he couldn't even remember the last time he'd stood so still for so long. And could definitely not remember a time when he'd been so patient with anyone.

But then, Kelly wasn't just anyone, was she?

Speaking of, the girl finally stood back, unwrapping her arms from around him and looking up, brave optimism planted firmly in her blue eyes.

"Take me for a walk, dad."

---

Tony's concentration was spotty at best, nonexistent at worst. Between Gibbs, Kelly and the biggest cover-up he'd been involved in since la Grenouille, he was understandably having trouble staying focused.

It was because of this lack of focus that he was the first to notice the director's decent from MTAC and into the squad room.

He followed her movements with his eyes as she came around to stop in front of his desk.

"Director?"

"Agent DiNozzo," she nodded at him, "you ready for some company?"

Tony raised his eyebrows and glanced at Ziva, who shrugged.

"Why Jenny, I've never known you to be one to get your hands dirty," he said lightly, turning back to her, his teasing easily covering the tension he felt at her sudden appearance.

She raised an eyebrow at the comment and he immediately schooled his features. "Ma'am," he added.

"Not mine, Agent DiNozzo."

At that moment the elevator doors dinged and a tall man in his thirties with shockingly blonde hair and pale skin made a bee-line for their Unit.

"Special Agent Gordon Holmes, CIA," he said, addressing Tony and the director.

The director nodded when he flashed his badge and Tony narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"What can NCIS do for the CIA today Special Agent Holmes?"

The man tugged at the lapels of his jacket and straightened.

"You responded to the SI-BOLO, I'm here to claim the body and all pertinent evidence."

Jenny tilted her head to one side, her polite smile not matching the coolness in her eyes.

"Show me the proper documentation and I'll decide what you do and do not take with you out of this building," she tilted her head and held out her hand, waiting.

The man looked mildly annoyed as he reached into his jacket and pulled out a few tri-folded pieces of paper, handing them to the director as Ziva and McGee stood, openly staring at the trio in front of Tony's desk.

The stranger glanced over his shoulder.

"Where's Special Agent Gibbs?" he asked, pointing at the empty desk.

Tony shrugged, "Could be in the Head. Could also be at his coffee dealer. As they get older they're so much harder to keep track of."

The man glared at him, "I asked you a question Agent DiNozzo."

Jen looked up, fully aware they hadn't introduced themselves and not wishing to ponder how he knew their names.

"And he gave you an answer, Agent Holmes," she handed the papers back to him and, without breaking eye contact, continued, "Ziva, Tony, gather the files and documentation regarding the Jane Doe at the Gate. McGee, go get the forensic evidence from Abby."

"And the body?" The man asked, somewhat impatient with the glares he got from both of the other agents as they began their assigned tasks.

The Director raised her eyebrows, "I'll take you to see Dr. Mallard myself."

Ziva looked up from her computer.

"I didn't think there was a body," she whispered conspiratorially after they'd entered the elevator.

Tony was still giving the elevator a wary look as he returned to this chair to start helping Ziva, his mood sufficiently dampened.

"There isn't."

"So what is she going to give them?"

Tony just glanced up with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh."

She turned to her computer and laughed softly, as if at a private joke.

"What's so funny?"

Ziva shook her head, "I was just remembering something Abby said."

"Oh yeah," Tony said, shuffling papers on his desk and sounding vaguely interested, "what was that?"

"That pissing off agencies like the CIA was one of her favorite job perks," she grinned and looked at him out of the corner of her eyes and caught Tony's amused smile in return.

"Sounds about right."

---

They walked up rows, down rows, across small bridges and along paved drives. All the while enjoying the solitude and solace of the cemetery, speaking in respectfully quiet voices, updating each other on the things they'd missed over the years.

Kelly's first boyfriends, her first assignments, her first state dinner.

"Yeah, well, I didn't get to go to too many formal dinners after that. Kicking a senator's son in the crotch tends to be something the Agency frowns upon. But, I mean, I was ten, and you think he ever tried to kiss me again? I think _not_."

Gibbs told her of his first few years at NCIS and highlighted some of the more interesting cases he'd had over the years.

"First Abby's stalker, then Tony getting framed for murder and not long after McGee's shooting a cop. I was sure somebody had pissed off a witch or something. Hell if I know who, but I would have shot 'em if I ever found out."

Kelly laughed at his mock indignation with karma, glancing down at a passing headstone as she did so.

The laugh caught in her throat and her eyes widened. She glanced up at Gibbs, who looked nearly as surprised as she did. He had, of course, recognized the name of the cemetary when Ziva told him, but he hadn't really thought about it. He cursed the atypical lack of foresight.

Kelly looked back down.

_Here Lies Shannon Gibbs__  
Wife and Mother__  
Inspired Love and Laughter in All Whose Lives She Touched  
1959-1991_

Her vision grew blurry and she hesitantly glanced at the small headstone beside it.

_Kelly Gibbs  
__Daddy's Baby, Mommy's Girl  
1983-1991_

Her gasp was audible this time and she dropped to her knees so abruptly Gibbs reached out to try and catch her. She shrugged off his hands, biting her lip and blinking hard. Caught halfway between wanting to cry and being sick, she closed her eyes, gripping the earth beneath her hands as if it was going to float away from her.

She felt warmth enclose one of her shaking fists and felt her father on his own knees beside her, one of his larger, calloused hands covering hers.

"It was my fault, you know," she said, her voice cracked and shaking.

Gibbs was already shaking his head, "no, it wasn't,"

"It was," she cut him off, sharper than she'd ever been with him. She stared ahead at the tombstones while sitting on her folded legs, "I was always scribbling on everything. The back of my art projects or on napkins at restaurants," she sniffed loudly and Gibbs seized the moment to turn his hand so they were clutching one another, "I wasn't thinking about who saw it or what the equations meant I just…I just thought they were pretty," she smiled almost shyly at him, a sob turning to a short, sorrowful laugh. She looked away quickly and shrugged, "maybe if I hadn't…maybe then-"

"Kelly," Gibbs interrupted, squeezing her hand gently.

"Tracy," she corrected, though there was no conviction behind it.

Gibbs rolled his eyes but remained serious.

"It was _not_ your fault." He wanted to say it wasn't anyone's fault, but knew that wasn't true. He wasn't even sure, after all these years, that it wasn't his fault. But one thing he knew for damn sure was that it wasn't hers.

"You always said I was smart," she said, attempting to sound teasing and failing, "you just didn't know how right you were." She gave him a small smile which he didn't return, instead just squeezing her hand again.

Kelly pursed her lips uncertainly, "she…I should've been there," she said, her eyes glued to the larger headstone and the fresh bouquet of flowers on the ground in front of it, "she shouldn't have died alone."

Gibbs took a deep breath, turning his eyes away from her downcast face. They landed silently on the smaller headstone bearing Kelly's name and presumed year of death.

"If you had been there, you would've died too," he said, his voice rough.

Slowly Kelly turned to look up at her father, hearing the intense sadness in his tone. She squeezed his hand but he didn't respond so she followed his gaze over to the tombstone with her name.

"These are my favorite," she said, reaching out to touch the delicate white daisies that stood watch at the base.

Gibbs nodded, "I know."

They sat in silence for several minutes longer until Gibbs' back started to protest the prolonged kneeling position.

He gave Kelly's hand a slight tug as he pulled himself to his feet, his knees and back popping audibly as he did so.

"C'mon kiddo," he said, releasing her hand in favor of wrapping an arm around her slight shoulders, "I need coffee."

Kelly nodded and, after one last glance over her shoulder, allowed herself to accompany him.

"So," Gibbs began after they'd been walking for a few minutes, "you and DiNozzo?"

Kelly couldn't help but laugh.

_TBC_


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **Okay so there should only be one more chap after this, fyi. I'm SO glad everyone is enjoying this. Thanks for the reviews all who have dropped me a line, I tried really hard to respond to all of them. **diana teo - **_Deftly you say? Thanks SO much! 'you know them well' well, I think my family and friends would agree with you, only they would say 'too well' and that i 'need a life'. Silly fools. Lol._ You know, for someon who's not actually old enough to drink...there is a LOT of drinking in this chapter! rofl. Enjoy everybody!! -pj

---

"Dr. Mallard," Gibbs responded to Ducky's knock promptly, the older man having been informed of Gibbs strange new 'door locking' habit from Ziva, "come on in."

"Good evening to you as well, Jethro," Ducky said, stepping inside the house and removing his hat and coat.

After removing his shoes he followed the sound of Gibbs rummaging around in the kitchen and found the man bent over the sink, washing dishes.

"Where's my newest favorite 'niece'?" Ducky asked, scanning the kitchen and living room and seeing no sign of the girl.

"Upstairs asleep," Gibbs said, placing a rinsed plate on the drying rack, "want a drink?"

Ducky considered a moment, drawing his thumbs through his suspenders straps, "I might have a nip."

Gibbs jerked his chin in the direction of the pantry and Ducky went to the cupboard to pull out one short glass and then proffered a second to Gibbs, who nodded.

"So how are things going so far?" he asked, pouring a slight amount of bourbon in each.

Gibbs was almost envious of the man's seeming casualness about the subject. Gibbs, for one, couldn't decide if he was still waiting to wake up from a dream or for the CIA to bust through the door. Either way he found he was left feeling tense and exhausted.

"Alright, I guess," he shrugged, rinsing his hands and reaching for a towel, "I'm relearning the nuances of sharing a bathroom with a woman again," he said with a wry smile.

"Ah, that can be a challenge," Ducky smiled in return and held out Gibbs his drink. He waited until he'd taken a few sips before continuing, "other than lavatory time shares…" Ducky trailed off, anxious to know how Gibbs was coping with life with his long presumed dead daughter. He couldn't imagine it was as easy on the man as he wanted everyone to believe.

Gibbs shrugged, sensing what his old friend was fishing for and intent on not biting. It would take time and effort to adjust. He knew that. Time and effort he was willing to give.

"There is that thing with DiNozzo."

Ducky was so surprised by the turn in subject he didn't protest Gibbs evading the real issue.

"A _thing_ with Anthony?" He asked, looking confused.

Gibbs gave him a look over his glass that spoke volumes.

"Oh…_oh_," Ducky chuckled, "the boy has gumption, you've got to give him that."

"That's not all I'm gonna give him," Gibbs grumbled, reaching for the bottle of bourbon for a refill.

Ducky was quiet for a moment, swishing around the remaining contents of his glass, hardly touched, while Gibbs made a sizable dent in his second.

"If I may Jethro," he began. At Gibbs' nod he continued, uncharacteristically careful in his word choice, "I would not advise that."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, wondering what exactly Ducky was referring to.

"Tony can take it," he said, guessing at the doctor's meaning and silently adding, _It's not like he has much choice_.

By the way Ducky shifted on his socked feet, he'd guessed correctly.

"Yes, I'm sure he can, Jethro," he nodded and then motioned toward the stairs with his glass, "but can Kelly?"

"Tracy," Gibbs corrected automatically, tilting his head to one side at Ducky's words.

"Really?" Ducky's tone was unmistakably distracted and Gibbs felt a story coming on, "I had an aunt named Tracy. Yes, she was from Liverpool, married my uncle Charlie amidst a native coming of age ritual in Sri Lanka…"

"What do you mean, Duck," Gibbs cut off the tangent before it got a chance to get started, his tone serious, "about her not being able to take it."

Ducky's eyes held none of their previous foggy musings when he turned them to his friend.

"She's not a little girl anymore, Jethro," he stated as gently as possible, noticing the way Gibbs bristled almost microscopically under the reminder, "you must remember not to treat her as such."

Gibbs clenched his jaw, considering. The two were so focused on each other, that neither noticed a small, slight shadow slipping out the top floor window and across the backyard, disappearing through the hedges behind the house.

---

Abby leaned against the railing on the patio outside the team's usual bar. Tonight it was just her and Tony, the other's having made other plans, and she'd decided to conmemorate the waning days of summer with a drink outdoors. Of course, she hadn't counted on the chilly evening breeze coming off the water, which was why they were currently the only two occupants on the spacious patio.

She snuggled down into Tony's jacket, which she'd managed to talk him out of a few minutes ago, and sighed, "Do you think it was enough?"

"Do you?" Tony glanced up at her. Bent over with his elbows leaning against the railing he was almost a foot shorter than her in her precarious platform shoes. His hands were wrapped around a plain coke, which did not surprise Abby. Though he gave Gibbs a hard time about drinking 'sarsaparilla' while on assignment, she happened to know for a fact that Tony rarely, if ever, drank alcohol. Just like having deaf parents had taught her something, having two alchoholic parents had done the same for Tony.

Abby, however, was casually sipping a third 'Pink Jesus', which she'd pointed out to Tony she'd ordered purely for the name.

She nodded, "Yeah…I mean, for the kind of scrutiny most people can bring, sure. The DMV or a college recruitment office for example. But the CIA?" she took a deep breath and sipped her drink again, shaking her head uncertainly, "They have resources that I can't even think of…I can't be sure. Not entirely."

Tony nodded, accepting her logic. He knew she'd done her best and then some, which she always did where Gibbs was involved and it was all anyone could ask of her. He turned again at the sound of her snorting and caught an ironic smile on her face.

"This whole thing is sort of surreal, you know? Can you imagine what it must be like for Gibbs?" she paused, her alcohol laden mind slowly mulling the possibilities, "it would be like if Kate suddenly walked through the door. Like right now. And told us she'd been alive all this time working with the CIA," she turned back toward the entrance of the patio as if she actually expected their long dead friend to make an appearance.

Tony stiffened at the mention of his former partner and knocked back the rest of his coke, "I wouldn't hold your breath, Abbs. She looked pretty dead to me."

Abby looked at him, immediately noticing the lines of tension that had appeared around his eyes, "oh Tony, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you sad," she said, her voice full of contrition. She threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug, almost spilling the remains of her drink in the process.

Tony smiled, a drunk Abby was always a huggy Abby. But then, so was a sober Abby.

"Don't worry about it, Abbs," he managed to choke out, patting her back soothingly. He was nothing less than thrilled when she pulled back a moment later, allowing him to breathe again.

She gave him an appraising look, one hand still gripping his shoulder, while the other held her drink loosely and rested against him.

"What's this I hear about you and Gibbs' daughter?" she cocked an eyebrow at him, "I know you've always liked younger women Tony but…Gibbs _daughter_?"

Tony chuckled softly and shrugged, "I guess I must have some kind of death wish."

Her eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open, "hey, I _always _say that," she said, sounding amazed, "how'd you know?"

Tony gave her a look and reached for her nearly empty glass, "okay, I think you've had enough there Miss Scuito."

He placed both his drink and hers on a nearby table and by the time he turned back, the shock had been replaced again with the thoughtful look.

"Although…"

He cocked an eyebrow at her, flicking one of her pigtails playfully, "what?"

"Well, it kinda makes sense I guess. I mean, if he were gonna trust anybody with her heart…why not somebody he already trusts with his life?"

Tony narrowed his eyes at her, chewing over her comment for a moment. Then he tilted his head and took her arm, pulling her toward the doors.

"C'mon, I'll give you a ride home."

"But _why_," she protested, sounding dangerously close to whining as she glanced back regretfully at her still unfinished drink.

"Because Abbs," he pulled her close to drape an arm around her shoulders, "when you start making sense I _know_ you're drunk."

She tried to punch him in the shoulder and nearly lost her balance on her unsteady legs and even more unsteady shoes.

"Shut up, Tony."

---

Henley stiffened, the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, alerting him he was not alone. He set the small brown sack of groceries on the counter and spun around, searching the darkness carefully. Thirty-five years in the CIA had developed in him something of a sixth sense.

When he was facing the expanse of his darkened living room, the air shifted, and a figure moved out of the shadows into a stream of moonlight that poured in through the picture window.

"Hello Henley. Little late for grocery shopping, don't you think?"

The man took a startled step back, "They…said you were dead."

Kelly nodded, "I seem to be developing a nasty habit," her blue eyes were set in stone, her voice carrying practiced neutrality, "when was the last time you swept for bugs?"

"Two weeks ago," he answered automatically, still reeling from the resurrection of a girl he'd known since she was nothing more than knees, elbows and freckles.

She held up a small listening device and tossed it to him. He caught it against his chest.

"You've been retired for over three months and they're still bugging you?"

"No one leaves the Agency," he muttered, then raised his eyes to Kay, who was still shrouded in mostly shadow, "how'd you get in?" he asked. He was obsessive about locking his windows and doors, paranoia was a natural work hazard.

Kelly smiled somewhat bitterly, "my playmates as a child were retired CIA agents and my first boyfriends were active ones. You don't think I picked up a thing or two?" Her words were light, almost teasing, but her tone was sharp and tinged with acid that made him wince.

"Kay…" Henley began, raising his hands in a way meant to soothe.

It had the opposite effect and the light glinted briefly against metal as she raised a gun he hadn't seen before and trained it on his head, "Don't call me that," she said, her voice low and suddenly betraying all the anger he knew to be hers, "My name is Kelly Gibbs. Kelly Marie Gibbs. But you knew that, didn't you?" she accused softly.

"No."

"_Don't_ lie to me," she snapped and a chill ran down his spine when he heard the safety click.

"I'm not lying Ka-Kelly. I had my suspicions but it was need to know. I didn't."

"Suspicions?" she repeated, her face contorting with both disbelief and disgust, "I used to scream in the middle of the night for my mom and dad and you had your _suspicions_?"

Her aim never wavered, but years of learning the art of observation told him all he needed to know. Slight bags under her eyes and the slouch of her shoulders meant she was exhausted, drained and at the end of her rope. Her eyes were bright and she bit her bottom lip in hopes of keeping her chin from trembling. She was fighting tears valiantly and losing, trying to decide between being hurt and angry and coming up with a mixture of both. He couldn't blame her, but knew better than to tempt her either. He raised his hands non-threateningly.

"Put the gun down, Kelly," he said, his voice soft but commanding.

"No."

"Please Kelly, I don't - what do you want from me?" he took a step forward and shrugged helplessly.

"Answers," she demanded quietly, "the truth for once."

Henley shrugged again, taking another step forward, "I haven't got them."

Kelly grew quiet, studying him for several moments and Henley watched as some of the anger fell away, replaced by the hurt he'd suspected was there all along.

"I trusted you," she said, her voice wavering along with her gun, and he closed the final small distance between them and placed a hand on the weapon, guiding it to the floor.

"I think you still do, or you wouldn't be here," he kept one hand on hers, making sure she kept the gun, now held loosely in her shaking fingers, pointed at the ground, and put the other on her free arm, rubbing it soothingly.

"I've never hated you more than I do right now, Henley," she told him in a small whisper.

Without really thinking he dropped a kiss on the top of her head as it bent forward, resting his chin on top.

"I know," he said, and resisted the urge to call her 'sweetheart', knowing it was not his place, not anymore. "Listen to me. Go home. Back to your father. No one leaves the Agency but you've got a chance to be the exception to the rule. Take it."

Her eyes were closed but tears still escaped as she shook her head slowly, "someone should pay for what they took from me. From him. They should _pay_, Henley."

He nodded, "but they won't. You know that."

She inhaled sharply to cover a sob and bit her lip, not looking up, "they let me believe my father was dead," her voice was barely audible but he heard her all the same.

No longer able to resist, he pulled her into a hug, his insides twisting to realize she remained stiff in his arms instead of relaxing the way she used to. He turned to whisper in her ear, "Now let them believe the same about you. Go. Go home to your father."

She nodded and pulled away, wiping her nose with the arm that still held the revolver.

"Bye Henley," she turned for the door.

He watched her leave, knowing he would never see her again. The door clicked shut behind her.

"Bye Kelly."

The silence swallowed his farewell.

---

Kelly was surprised to see him awake and sitting on the front porch swing when she made her way up tothe house. She'd had the taxi that had dropped her off two blocks away so she wouldn't wake him, but it seemed her efforts had all been for naught.

Without a word, she settled in beside him and shook off the strange yet familiar feeling of déjà vu.

"You're out late," he said after sipping a strong smelling alcohol from his coffee mug.

"Sorry," she managed to say, her voice not as strong as she would have liked.

He turned his head to study her in the bright light of a full moon. Took in her hunched shoulders and blank eyes and pushed down a slow boiling twinge of concern.

"You okay?" he asked, forcing his voice to remain neutral, wishing to give her the space Ducky was so convinced she needed. He took another sip of coffee to prevent a thousand questions from pouring through his lips. He could hardly remember a time when he'd felt as worried as he had been when he'd come up from the kitchen after Ducky left and found her room empty. He'd gone through every room trying to find her, and had nearly called in the team before he found his gun missing from his bedside table. It was then that he'd realized that she hadn't been taken, but had left of her own accord. Then he'd gone to pour himself another glass of bourbon.

Kely nodded to his question and then shook her head, finally finishing with a shrug as she kicked at the porch with her shoe, making the swing rock gently.

He returned his gaze to his mug and, after a moment, held out his hand. Palm up.

"What?" Kelly questioned with a puzzled look.

"My .38," came his simple answer.

She smiled somewhat sheepishly and pulled the weapon from the small of her back and gave it to him.

Gibbs turned it over a few times in his hand.

"You get the answers you were looking for?" he asked, not looking up.

Kelly shrugged, "Kind of hard to when you're not quite sure of the questions," she said with a sad smile.

He snorted, understanding her dilemma. They sat in silence for a few moments and the sound of Cicada bugs ebbed and flowed around them.

"There used to be more flowers," Kelly said suddenly.

Gibbs looked up at her and then around the front porch. Briefly, he flashed back, remembering how every summer Shannon would go down to the local Farmers' Market and buy pots of flowers by the dozen. She loved to fill the porch with 'too many damn flowers' as he'd call them, and tend to them carefully like surrogate children.

He heard a soft sniffle and turned to see Kelly's eyes shining brightly with tears that were now escaping down her cheeks.

"I miss her, dad," she confessed in a broken whisper, "I can't believe how much it hurts now. All of a sudden."

Gibbs instinctively opened his arms and Kelly snuggled in close to him without a word or the slightest hesitation.

He let his chin rest on top of her head and stroked her hair in a way that felt familiar.

"I don't really remember her anymore." Her voice was barely audible and sounded somewhat ashamed and his hand froze momentarily at the admission, "at first I tried to hang on to everything. Then...they told me you gone, never coming back. I let it all go."

His chest hurt to hear her so distraught, and he felt an inexplicable desire to make that pain go away, whatever the cost to himself.

"She looked like you, but with brown eyes," he began slowly, his voice low and gruff as he faught for memories he'd long kept dormant under strict locka and key, "she smiled all the time. Her favorite song was Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds. The Beatles."

Kelly gasped softly, "I remember that."

And in that moment they could almost see Shannon, young and vibrant and full of life just like she had always been. Bare feet and a yellow sundress, ambling about the porch with her blue watering can, singing softly.

_Picture yourself in a boat on a river,  
With tangerine trees and marmalade skies.  
Somebody calls you, you answer quite slowly,  
A girl with kaleidoscope eyes_

Gibbs smiled and Kelly laughed.

"I've always loved that song."

_TBC_


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N: **So this is the last chapter, and I'm sure I don't need to tell you all how much your lovely reviews have meant, I'm SO stoked people enjoyed this fic. Now, I do think this is a natural stopping point for the fic, but some have indicated a desire for more along the line so if you want this let me know and a sequel could happen but in any case, this fic has been a fun ride. Now, enjoy the show! -pj

**A/N2:** I know Tony has always seemed like he's no good at Math on the show, I think it's possible that this is just an act, that perhaps he's downplaying intelligence so as to remain firmly within his 'handsome jock' persona. -pj again

---

Three weeks later and no one had heard word one from the CIA. Kelly, or Tracy, had enrolled at the college without a hitch but could still often be found hanging around the office when she wasn't in class and no one seemed to mind her hovering presence. She shared Abby's taste in music and Ducky was thrilled to be telling stories to someone who hadn't heard them before. What was more, she seemed to enjoy speaking 'tech' with McGee and since she had almost as many secrets as Ziva the two had developed a tentitive, if not slightly weary, relationship which was built on exchanging contact information. And then there was Tony, who flirted shamelessly and was complainging of developing a bald spot on the back of his head, for which Gibbs showed no remorse.

"Ow! Hey," Tony looked indignant as Gibbs breezed past him toward the stairs for MTAC and thrust an accusing finger toward Kelly, "she started it, Boss."

Gibbs ignored him and Tony turned back, scowling as the girl, settled comfortably in Gibbs' chair. She grinned and winked at him.

"He hits you because he cares," she said in a mock-soothing voice.

Instantly, Tony's scowl was transformed into a suggestive smirk, "ah, something to look forward to."

He was cut off by a ballpoint pen thrown with deadly accuracy from her side of the unit.

"Watch it, DiNozzo."

In celebration of an incident free month, not counting two unrelated murders, Abby had called Gibbs and demanded he attend the 'Mandatory Movie Night' she'd organized. Incidentally, she meant for it to be held at his house.

"We need to christen that awesome new TV you bought for your _neice_, Gibbs."

So he'd conceded.

And that was how he'd ended up at his kitchen table one night, with Ziva on his right, Ducky on his left and Jen across from him while he whipped their asses at Poker. In the next room McGee and Abby were bickering and ignoring Palmer's input as they set up said TV and speakers, which were, apparently, nothing less than requisite.

But the pair that had really captured his attention were at the counter, talking and flirting over a bowl of popping popcorn, were Tony and Kelly. They spoke in hushed tones with their backs to him so he couldn't tell what they were saying, not that it fooled him a bit. He'd witnessed his senior agent with enough metro cops, detectives and waitresses to know his 'charm smile' when he saw it. And as far as Kelly was concerned, her laugh was a dead giveaway.

Shannon used to laugh with him like that.

"I'll see your twenty and raise you ten," Ziva's face revealed nothing as she pushed colored tokens to the middle of the table and raised an eyebrow at him.

He pushed another two coins into the pot and laid his cards out in front of him, "royal flush."

Ducky visibly deflated, Jenny laughed and rolled her eyes while Ziva frowned, tossing her cards aside.

"Are you sure you're not stacking the deck, Jethro?" Jen asked with a smile.

"Would I do that to you, Jen?"

"In a heartbeat."

Gibbs only smirked, refusing to confirm or deny her suspicion as he gathered the pot to his side of the table. Out of the corner of his eye as he saw movement.

Tony had turned away to reach into the cupboard for a large bowl and the salt, and Kelly had turned to put her back to the counter, observing. Gibbs saw her eyes grow bright, misty even, and his first urge was to jump to her aid. He was stilled however, by the sight of Tony beating him to it.

The man immediately moved into her space, tilting his head to look into her eyes and resting one hand on her arm, squeezing her shoulder. He spoke so low even Gibbs' sharp ears couldn't pick up what was said, but he didn't really need to. Kelly nodded in response and gave him a small smile, which Tony returned and, after hesitating a moment, went back to the stove to get the finished popcorn off the burner.

Kelly watched his back for a moment before her eyes caught Gibbs'. She wiped her face and then gave him a look that said 'I'm fine, stop worrying', and mouthed _I'll be back_. Gibbs nodded and she quickly and quietly made her way to the door on the other side of the kitchen.

---

Tony looked up from the freshly popped bowl of popcorn, evenly coated with salt and ready for eating. If there was anything Tony knew how to cook, it was movie-theatre worthy popcorn. He'd tuned out McGee and Abby some time ago and was hardly paying any attention at all to the poker game happening behind him.

Kelly was the one who'd had his attention all night, her quiet comments and quick wit had kept him on his toes since the moment he stepped through the door. He glanced to his left to ask her for the napkins and found she'd disappeared. He hadn't believed her a moment ago when she said she would be 'fine', but hadn't wanted to press it. Now she was gone and he was thinking perhaps he should have.

Tony caught Gibbs' eye and silently questioned him. For a moment he wasn't sure if Gibbs would answer him, then with a determined set to his jaw, he tipped his head toward the basement door. With a small nod of recognition Tony went to it, his movements going unoticed by the rest of the kitchen occupants.

Kelly walked slowly around the length of the boat, soaking her senses in the smell of sawdust of coffee, and came to a stop at the stern. She slowly began to trace the letters of her name with a delicate finger.

"Like father, like daughter, I guess."

She spun around and found Tony sitting on one of the middle steps. He had his elbows on his knees, soft brown eyes going right through her, "why the two of you spend such inordinate amounts of time in this dark basement, I'll never know."

Kelly smiled in response to his teasing and turned back to the boat.

"Wood is solid. Strong," she ran her hands along the unfinished wood, velvety in its softness after weeks of habitual sanding, "predictable."

"Like numbers," Tony said quietly.

She looked up at him sharply, something like surprise in her eyes and grinned, "yeah. Just like that."

Tony shrugged at her questioning look, "I like math."

She raised an eyebrow.

"Okay maybe 'like' is too strong a word. I understand it. Algebra anyway, never was a fan of Geometry."

Kelly nodded, accepting this and backing away from the boat. She stuck her hands in her pockets. On the bench there lay dozens of hand tools that were so incredibly archaic and completely familiar they almos made her laugh.

"Every time dad came home on leave we would work on the boat," she shook her head at the memories flooding her minds eye and smiled. "God, we'd spend hours and hours down here. _'Sand with the grain, Kelly', 'don't run with the chisel, Kelly',"_ she laughed, "_'no we're not going to name the boat Barry Smiles, Kelly',_" she shook her head, and her voice grew quiet, "I would stay down here until mom literally dragged me up to bed. All I wanted to be with him and the stupid boat."

Tony laughed softly, imagining a young Gibbs and even younger Kelly down in this basement, laughing at private jokes as they shaped and worked the wood until it was a water worthy vessel.

"Sorry I missed it."

Kelly's smile faltered, "me too," she whispered. She felt eyes on her skin and glanced over, seeing Tony's quiet gaze on her. She smiled purely for his benefit and went to join him on the step.

"Are you really okay? he asked, once she was squeezed in beside him, only to be interrupted by an inexplicable banging noise followed by shrieks of laughter from upstairs.

Kelly smiled and Tony rolled his eyes.

"Fine, I promise," she motioned toward the ceiling and smiled, "it's just a little overwhelming, that's all. I've never had a family before…at least, not that I really remember well."

Tony nodded and turned to look at her, finding the narrow staircase where they sat hardly allowed a hairsbreadth of space between them. He knew the feeling, had felt the same way the first time he woke up in the hospital to find Gibbs and the team hovering at his bedside.

"You do now," he said softly. His eyes fell between her lips and eyes in turn, his breath growing more shallow by the moment. Kelly leaned slightly forward, her blue eyes locked on his lips and Tony couldn't tell in the sudden rush of Adrenalin through his system was caused by excitement or panic.

"Shouldn't do this, you know," he practically whispered, the heat of his breath tickling her lips. He nearly groaned when her pink tongue darted out to lick them.

Kelly smiled as Tony unconsciously leaned closer. Slowly, giving her an out, one she didn't intend to take.

"You don't think so?"

He shook his head minutely, "if Gibbs walks in he's going to break my legs off."

She nodded slowly, her nose brushing his as she did so, "probably beat you with them too."

"Definitely," Tony closed his eyes, as she closed the distance between them. Kelly swallowed his words, his lips stroking hers so softly she could have been imagining it.

Tony had kissed his fair share of girls, not quite as many as he said he had, but enough to know the difference between someone who knew how to give a kiss, and someone who didn't. The girl whose lips were locked with his at the moment, certainly did. It was hesitant and shy while at the same time bold and forceful. A combination of that both confused and enthralled him. He pressed his lips harder against hers, begging for more.

Kelly, too, had kissed and been kissed before. Often enough to be embarrassed that kissing Tony was literally taking her breath away. Often enough to know he was holding back, trying to keep himself from going too far. She reached up to cup his face before threading her arms around behind his neck, afraid he might pull away and the moment would end.

Neither heard their names being called from the other side of the door over the sound of their blood racing through their veins and pounding in their ears.

---

"There. Finished," Abby turned to look over her shoulder, "Palmer?"

Jimmy pressed the pre-arranged sequence of buttons and immediately the TV and sound equipment hummed to life.

"Ha!" Abby jumped up with her hands, drowning in striped wrist warmers, on her hips, "I told you the yellow one went on the left, McGee," she couldn't help but rub her victory in his face.

McGee rolled his eyes, pushing the leftover Styrofoam and cables into a box and putting it at the door.

"Is it my fault whoever put these directions together had no concept of electromagnetic currents?"

Abby sighed long-sufferingly, "just grab a chair, Tim. Hey, guys, TVs ready. Let movie night begin," she announced loudly, clapping her hands as she made her way into he kitchen.

"You guys ready?"

The four playing cards nodded and began gathering the cards together.

"Saved by the bell." Jenny muttered, stacking the poker chips back in their tray.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Gibbs countered, giving her a sidelong glare.

Jenny shrugged, thought the look on her face stated plainly that she did know, "you were going to fold, that's all."

"Fold?" Gibbs raised his eyebrows at her.

"Yes, fold."

Abby, ignored them both and turned to Ziva and Ducky,

"Where's TnT?" She grinned at the nickname she'd so cleverly made up for Tony and 'Tracy' a few days before.

Ziva motioned silently toward the door at the back of the room.

"Try the basement."

Abby quickly crossed the room, bursting through the basement door, already announcing the reason behind her interruption.

"Hey you two we're about to start-"

The pair that sat on the middle step of the narrow stair case flew apart as if shocked and Tony leapt to his feet, nearly toppling over the railing in the process.

"Abby. Abbs, hey…we were um..we weren't, you know…just, uh…it's not," Tony stuttered, motioning between himself and Kelly, whose face was beet red and entirely too guilty looking.

"Save it, Romeo," Abby grinned knowingly, "c'mon up here, the movie's ready." She disappeared back through the doorway and Tony winced, afraid his boss had heard the 'Romeo' comment.

"I'm so fired," he muttered and started up the stairs. He was stopped by a tug on his arm and looked back, somewhat startled to have lips eagerly and playfully crash into his. Then, just as suddenly, she was gone, scampering up the steps and out of sight.

Tony grinned, and stood there in a daze for several moments until Kelly poked her head back through the doorway.

"DiNozzo, you comin?"

He replied out of pure habit.

"On your six, Boss."

---

When Tony and Kelly entered the living room it was already nearly filled to capacity. With Jen, presumably Gibbs, though he was conveniently absent and Ziva on the couch, Jimmy and Ducky on the Settee and McGee on the floor in front of them next to Abby, the only place left was at Gibbs and Jen's feet between the couch and the television.

Kelly moved to sit on the floor in front of the couch while Abby decided which of the movies to watch first.

Tony, however, was more concerned with sitting arrangements than viewing options. He narrowed his eyes at the living room set up. As far as he could tell, there was no way he could sit next to Kelly and still be out of reach of Gibbs.

"Something wrong, DiNozzo?" a low voice rumbled from directly behind him.

He nearly jumped out of his skin and he whirled around to face arguably the sneakiest SOB on the planet.

"Hey boss," he said, clearing his throat unnecessarily, "me? Um, no. Not, uh, nothing's wrong."

Gibbs tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, suppressing a smirk that threatened at the other man's obvious discomfort.

His eyes slid over to Kelly, who'd commandeered the popcorn bowl and was laughing at something Jimmy said to Ziva.

"Admiring the boat, were you Tony?"

Tony swallowed and frowned, "the boat, boss?"

Gibbs continued to stare and Tony realized he had probably been in the basement much longer than was actually required of the 'search and retrieve' mission he'd originally set out on.

"Oh, um, yeah. The boat its…" he relaxed his shoulders slightly and his eyes softened, details that did not go unnoticed by Gibbs, as he recalled the feel of Kelly's mouth on his, "she's a fine vessel, Boss. If I had a boat like her, I'd take good care of her."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes and Tony fought not to squirm under the stare.

"That so, Tony?" He asked, his voice so soft it could hardly be heard over the other's voices.

Tony took a deep breath and nodded, "Yes, sir." He responded formally, feeling that, in this particular instance, Gibbs would accept it.

Tony winced when he saw Gibbs right hand move in the corner of his eyes, preparing himself for the smack to come. He was suitably surprised then when, instead of pain, he felt Gibbs stroke the back of his head twice gently.

He cracked open one eye and then the other only to find Gibbs brushing past him a muttered, "I'm going to hold you to that, DiNozzo," in his ear.

Tony smiled. It was a blessing if he'd ever heard it.

As expected, Gibbs sat on the couch beside Jen and Kelly grinned up at him, motioning to a spot on the floor beside where she sat at her father's feet.

"Missing me already?" he asked cheekily, folding up on the floor beside her.

Kelly rolled her eyes, "not hardly. Abby won't start the movie until-"

"Now that we're all here," she was interrupted when the woman in question leapt to her feet at the front of the room and held up two DVD cases, "we can start. Here I have a couple of classics. First a little flick called 'On Her Majesty's Secret Service' courtesy of our own, Mr. DiNozzo," she motioned to Tony who bowed slightly, earning him a few projectile popcorn kernels from Ziva's side of the couch, "and a personal favorite of mine, The Princess Bride which, somehow, Gibbs has never seen. How is that Gibbs?"

"Do I look like the kind of guy that sits around by himself watching movies called 'the Princess Bride', Abbs," Gibbs asked giving her an impatient look.

Abby nodded, "good point. Which is why, you're going to watch it with us." She held up the second case triumphantly and inserted the disk before scampering back to her place laid out on the carpet beside McGee.

"Okay, Carey Elwis and Mandy Patinkin star in this classic 'love conquers all' fairy tale," DiNozzo began, taking it upon himself to educate the group as to the movie's illustrious history, "it was directed by Rob Reiner of 'A Few Good Men' fame and-"

"Shut up, Tony!" A chorus rang of voices rang out around the room at the same time that he felt a familiar sting to the back of his head.

Suitably chastised, Tony suppressed himself, and the opening credits began to roll in peace. Out of the corner of her eye Kelly could see Tony pouting, clearly not understanding why everyone else wasn't as interested in the film's history as he was.

Careful, so as not to attract attention from above, she scooted her hand over until it captured his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

And unlike the last time in the car, when he'd ignored the gesture, Tony turned his hand over and reciprocated the touch.

The movie began quietly, with all in attendance of Abby's Mandatory Movie night paying rapt attention, so none of them noticed the matching secret smiles on Tony and Kelly's faces.

No one, that is, but Gibbs.

And, this time, he decided that was okay.

_END_


End file.
